


Your Name In Lights

by ChronicCombustion



Series: Scars On My Sleeve (For All the World to See) [6]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Background Relationships, Birthday Party, Established Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Shirogane Naoto, One Big Happy Family, Past Child Abuse, The Gang Throws Parties, Trans Male Character, Trans Souji Seta, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, established souyo, this thing is 50 pages long please send help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 18:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18970948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicCombustion/pseuds/ChronicCombustion
Summary: They waste no time after school in grabbing Kanji-kun by the arm and signaling to Rise-chan to follow after them, high tailing it down the hall into the practice building to look for an empty room. The moment the three of them are inside, Naoto shuts the door behind them and whirls around like a person possessed.“Souji-senpai’s name day is May 1st and I need your help to put together a party.”





	Your Name In Lights

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BELTANE!!! (Okay, well, technically Beltane was several weeks ago, but part of this story is _set_ on Beltane, so it still counts.)  
> But anyway, hello again! I know it's been a while; April was completely shot in terms of writing (I'll put more details down in the end notes so I don't take up too much space here), and this past month was consumed by other projects like this one and also a fic for the _Fools in Love_ Persona fan zine that I got accepted in to as a writer~  
> Long story short, I'm not dead and neither is 'Caught in the Grey' - I just wasn't able to work on it for two months. ^^;
> 
> This fic here _is technically_ part of the 'Scars on my Sleeve' series. It wasn't originally planned as part of the fic canon, but I got inspired by the song [Party Like It's Your Birthday](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ltodvng8XHY) by Studio Killers (which I decided not to put on the playlist) and now this fic exists. It takes place well after the events of 'CitG' - so... minor spoilers, but also kind of not. (Also, I have author's notes/running commentary for this if anyone is interested in seeing them...)
> 
> I'm pretty sure something similar to this has already been done before, but honestly my own birthday was on May 11th and this is my present to myself, so I regret nothing. XD 
> 
> (It's good to be back, I missed you guys! <3)

January comes in softly, a direct contrast to the events of the previous months, and while it takes the Investigation Team some time to begin relaxing, the urge to fervently check the weather, to stare anxiously at the television on rainy nights, finally starts to wane around two and a half weeks into the new year. There is still an air of trepidation – after all, the first time they’d been foolish enough to let their guard down they had nearly lost Nanako-chan. The second time, they nearly lost their leader.

By some horrid twist of ill luck, the only _good_ thing that had come with that two month long hell had been the 17th birthday of Amagi Yukiko, which was nearly completely eclipsed by the hunt for Adachi. The harried group had made it a point to take a free day after school, to try and inject some normalcy back into their lives by gathering at the food court and presenting their friend with a small pile of gifts and a cake, but the oppressive atmosphere hanging overhead had somewhat dampened the mood. She had appreciated the gesture, though, so at least it hadn’t _all_ been for naught.

But all of that is passed now, left behind where it belongs in that dismal, frigid span of time called November and December, and slowly the month of January trickles by.

As it does so, it brings with it a small sense of peace, of accomplishment, and tentatively the IT begins to breathe out a long, collective sigh of almost-relief. By the time the month is nearly through, something vaguely like happiness has already begun to take root. Their mission is – hopefully – over, their friends, their siblings, their _leader_ are all safe; Adachi is behind bars and Ameno-Sagiri lies dead in the rubble of the Midnight Channel. With Nanako-chan and Dojima-san all but entirely recovered, January starts to feel, if only a little, possibly like the beginning of something much, much better.

There is the faintest dusting of snow that glitters in the fading light of the late afternoon sun as it sinks below the horizon line. Naoto watches through the window as a few more flakes descend and fiddles with the small, blue-wrapped package clutched tightly in their lap. They sigh. Of all the anxiety they’ve had to quell within themself over the last few months, all the ready-to-spring fight or flight tension they’ve kept in their shoulders, this right here, this situation they’ve now found themself in is probably the most nerve-wracking.

Saturday, January 21st. Kanji-kun’s birthday had been two days ago on the 19th, a Thursday. Unable to do much with a day and a half of school still ahead of them all, the Investigation Team had decided to postpone their festivities until the weekend – which was how Naoto had found themself wildly out of their element, sitting on the floor of the Tatsumi family’s living room, tucked up by the low table with a birthday present taking the brunt of their nervously fidgeting hands.

They don’t know what they should be doing right now; Rise-chan and the other girls have been banned from the kitchen, of course, where Souji-senpai and Tatsumi-san have long-since disappeared. Instead, Yukiko-senpai and Rise-chan are piled up on the couch, watching Kanji-kun bashfully try and talk through the process of embroidering white flowers onto a lovely scrap piece of lavender fabric. He keeps stumbling over himself, face red, but the enthusiastic interest his audience keeps giving him seems to be helping him to power through his embarrassment. Off to the side of the room, over near the television, Yosuke-senpai is stuck pulling double duty. Every so often, while vehemently arguing with Chie-senpai as to what sort of movie they should watch once dinner is ready _(“Hell_ no, Chie! ‘Fist of the Mortal Flame’ is _not_ family friendly!), Yosuke-senpai has to reach over and snag Teddie by the scruff of his neck to keep him from either trying to slide into the lap of one of the girls on the couch, or trying to sneak off into the kitchen to “help Sensei”. Senpai’s ability to divide his attention so fluidly is actually rather impressive. Naoto wonders if it’s a natural talent or something he’s learned from years of customer service work.

But then that leaves Naoto. They sit there quietly, observing everyone from a distance the way that they’re so accustomed to doing – alone and silent at the short table, guarding the little pile of birthday gifts like an awkward, hoarding dragon. They don’t feel left out, per se, just out of place. It’s taken them a long time to wrap their head around the concept of no longer being isolated, of being friendless, but now, sitting here watching the rest of their teammates mill around the room, Naoto thinks maybe they could get used to this.

(If only they knew what they were supposed to be doing right now. After all, they can’t remember the last time they had real _friends,_ let alone be invited to a friend’s _birthday party.)_

Thankfully, it isn’t much longer before Tatsumi-san pokes her head into the room to announce that dinner is almost ready, giving Naoto the excuse they need to feel useful. They jump to their feet like they’re the pulled trigger of their own gun and escape off into the kitchen to help plate or carry or set up anything their hostess might need an extra set of hands for. They loiter just inside the door, unsure of how to voice their desire to assist, and silently pray they aren’t already underfoot.

Souji-senpai spots them first. He tilts his head just so, asking a question without words in that way of his that always makes Naoto feel strangely calmer but somehow also like they’ve been electrified. They meet his eyes as best they can and answer him with a short, sharp nod.

Souji-senpai smiles. It’s quiet, soft like his voice when he speaks among people he’s comfortable with, and tugs just a little higher up near his eyes than it does with most others. It’s a smile Naoto has come to appreciate as one meant almost solely for Kanji and themself, for the only two members of the team that had been able to guess at Souji-senpai’s secrets, the only two he’d been truly relaxed around because they had understood him without him ever needing to say a thing. They can feel the corners of their own mouth lifting in response, a quiet smile of their own to match the one they’ve been given.

“Could you take this out to the table, please?”

Naoto feels their smile widen. “Of course,” they say, finding their voice at last as Souji-senpai holds out a long tray laden with tableware and chopsticks. They take it from him carefully – it’s a little heavier than they expected – and glance over to where Tatsumi-san is loading up another tray with a full setting for tea.

The elderly woman smiles back at Naoto over her shoulder and waves a hand lightly. “Oh just set it anywhere, dear. Kan-chan will know where it goes.”

Naoto dips their head and neck as best they can in semblance of a bow. Tatsumi-san chuckles, making a shooing motion before turning to hand her tea tray off to Souji-senpai, who shoots Naoto another quick, moon-bright smile as he takes it from her.

They return to the living room and hand the tray off to Kanji-kun, who hops off the couch as soon as he sees them round the corner. As the tray passes from one set of hands to the other, their fingers brush slightly, and Kanji-kun’s face lights up a pretty shade of scarlet. It’s… oddly adorable, Naoto thinks, and the thought makes their own cheeks feel suddenly warmer.

Kanji-kun moves away to set the tray down and Naoto leaves the job to he and Yukiko-senpai, who has already come over and begun to assist in setting out the tableware. She may be a hazard in a cooking situation, but she _does_ now how to make everything presentable. Naoto will happily give their senpai _that._ They turn just in time to intercept Teddie as he rushes over to help – and no doubt try to impress the girls of the group. They barely manage to catch him by the arm before he crashes into Kanji-kun and sends a great many breakable things clattering to the ground.

Yosuke-senpai is at the table a moment later, grabbing at Teddie’s other arm with a muted curse and a, “Stop it, Ted, you’re gonna make a mess!” and yanking him back from the danger zone. Naoto gratefully hands over the bear wrangling to one more suited to the role before taking a few steps back and away from the ever-growing group of people. They sigh. It’s so easy to forget how quickly everyone can go from relatively calm to a flurry of motion and sound.

_Still,_ they think as they watch Rise-chan saunter over to take the second tray from Souji-senpai as he comes back into view from the kitchen, _it’s nice to have friends._

The party becomes more of an actual _party_ and less of a collection of people stuffed into the same room sometime after dinner is concluded. Several people attempt to help Tatsumi-san clean up afterwards – including Naoto, Kanji-kun, and Souji-senpai, of course – but she simply smiles at all of them and forbids them from setting foot back in the kitchen. She tells them to “have fun,” shooting Souji-senpai a look with an eyebrow raised so high it nearly comes off her face. Subdued, he sinks back down into his spot on the floor with hunched shoulders and Naoto has to stifle the grin that threatens to overtake their face at seeing him _actually_ act like a guest instead of a second host. It isn’t often that Souji-senpai is allowed to be the teenager that he is, (something Naoto is all too familiar with, themself); it’s a sight that never fails to makes something in their chest warm whenever they get to see it.

And today they get a perfect view of it, having been lucky enough earlier to weasel themself into the spot next to him before someone else (Teddie) had. Usually Yosuke-senpai would be next to him as well, on Souji-senpai’s other side, but today is Kanji-kun’s birthday and Kanji-kun had wanted his best friend to sit beside him, so Souji-senpai is now seated between Kanji-kun and Naoto – who have both silently agreed via eye contact behind Souji-senpai’s back to keep him seated and out of the kitchen. Yosuke-senpai has been ousted, forced to sit opposite his boyfriend at the other end of the low table and next to Teddie. He had pouted for a while, attempting to good-naturedly guilt trip Naoto into giving up their spot with his best puppy-dog expression, but Naoto had staunchly refused.

_“Awww, c’mon! I’m his second!”_

_“And? I am his tactician. I got here first.”_

Souji-senpai had just watched them both with a barely-concealed look of amusement and suddenly became _extremely interested_ in Kanji-kun’s embroidery sample when Yosuke-senpai’s puppy-dog expression had turned towards him instead.

Naoto scoots a little closer Souji-senpai’s side and offers him a small nod when he glances over at their movement. He nods back, that quiet smile ghosting back over his features – along with a look in his eyes that clearly shows his minor disgruntlement at not being allowed to help do dishes. Naoto’s shoulders twitch in silent laughter.

Everyone is distracted a few short moments later as Rise-chan thrusts a glittering gold and pastel pink gift box across the table into Kanji-kun’s face. The bow is enormous and very nearly pokes out one of Kanji-kun’s eyes, but he takes it from her with a startled yelp and an embarrassed flush. He opens it slowly, taking care not to rip the pretty wrapping paper, all the while rejoining whatever conversation had been happening around the table that Naoto hadn’t entirely been paying attention to; too busy observing their Pack of Imbeciles with something akin to affection blooming happily in the pit of their stomach.

One by one all the presents are opened and all the gift-givers are thanked. Kanji-kun is clearly a bit overwhelmed at everything, unused to having this much positive attention on him or being on the receiving end of so many physical tokens of friendship. Naoto feels a tug of empathy just between their ribs, knowing all too well just how surreal it must be for him to be surrounded by people that enjoy his company. They smile into their teacup, hiding the heat they know must be spreading across their face as Kanji-kun opens up their gift and practically beams at the sight of the book’s title.

_Advanced Knitting Patterns._ Naoto is just a teensy bit proud of themself for picking it out all on their own. They have very little experience giving gifts to people that aren’t their grandfather; they’re counting Kanji-kun’s stuttered, elated “thank you!” as a victory of the highest sort.

Surprisingly, there is not a single gag gift among the pile, which Naoto had expected _at least_ Yosuke-senpai to bring. (Although, considering everything that had transpired between Yosuke-senpai and Kanji-kun back at the end of last year, Naoto does have to admit it would be less likely _now_ for Yosuke-senpai to pull something than it might have been _before._ )

Yukiko-senpai’s gift is a free night’s stay at the Amagi Inn – which is also extended to Tatsumi-san, as Yukiko-senpai had apparently recently overheard Kanji-kun saying he wished he could give his mom a holiday. Chie-senpai’s gift is a movie, of course, though not a kung fu one as Naoto might have predicted. It appears to be animated, and the cover has what looks to be an anthropomorphic rabbit with a championship belt around its waist, so Naoto is unsure as to what the film is actually about but they can’t deny it looks interesting. (They wonder if perhaps they can all watch it together later, rather than whatever Chie-senpai had originally planned to make them sit through.)

Rise-chan and Teddie’s gifts are little things – a cute yellow sewing basket and a fluffy stuffed bear, respectively – and there is a handmade card and a large spool of coral-colored ribbon from Nanako-chan. Second to last is a videogame from Yosuke-senpai, followed up by an invitation to “come over whenever if you want to play versus,” which Naoto is proud of Yosuke-senpai for. It’s nice to see them acting like _real friends_ rather than the chilly distance that had been between them most of last year.

The final present to be unwrapped is from Souji-senpai. Kanji-kun smiles as he unwraps it to reveal another book, this one titled _A Beginner’s Guide to Gardening_ , his face lighting up like dawn over the Samegawa. It’s a very similar smile to the one Souji-senpai reserves for Naoto themself; quiet and unguarded, with deeper edges and a stronger presence around the eyes that make it just that much more real than the ones he usually gives the world. Naoto briefly wonders if Kanji-kun has picked up on it, even subconsciously, from their senpai, or if it’s a brand of smile all on its own that only those with cracked and mended edges are able to give. (Naoto isn’t sure, but they think they might have something similar that hijacks their features when around their two favorite companions.)

All in all it’s quiet an impressive assortment, one that Kanji-kun is entirely deserving of, in Naoto’s opinion, and there is a brightness to his eyes as the evening continues on. It’s something carefree and joyful that has seemed long-since missing, something that should have been there all along. Above everything else, Naoto is happy to see this side of their friend; it feels like summer, this cozy, contented warmth that spreads through them as they sit and observe the people they care about, the people they’ve come to think of _family._

At some point, as everyone is helping to gather up the neatly-folded wrapping paper and discarded, empty boxes, Souji-senpai slinks out of the room and around the corner to what can only be the kitchen. Naoto spots his escape. They mutter a quick, “I’ll be right back” to Kanji-kun and follow after their senpai – partly in case he needs any assistance, and partly to make sure the energy of the get-together isn’t taking a toll on him. _Introvert’s intuition_ , they think, suppressing the amused chuckle at their own little joke.

They do indeed find Souji-senpai in the kitchen, padding quietly in behind him as he pulls a few plates from the dish drainer and wipes them down with a towel. Naoto watches for a moment, simply observing.

Souji-senpai moves fluidly around the small area, gathering up desert plates and setting them to the side in two short stacks. When he’s done with that, he does the same with a handful of utensils – drying them off and setting them next to the plates – before pausing in front of a line of drawers as though debating whether he wants to go rifling through Tatsumi-san’s things. It’s obvious how comfortable he is in a space like this, how much he allows his own mind to go quiet. Souji-senpai is very much a person that needs to be doing something with his hands, needs to have something to occupy his thoughts to keep him from sinking too deep inside his own head. His comfort task seems to be cooking, or even just some form of kitchen work like dishes or cleaning up. It’s a testament to how often in his life he must have had to fend for himself and how he’s made it into something positive instead of a lonely chore born from necessity.

For as alone as Naoto has felt in the past, they can’t imagine what it’s like to be surrounded by loveless, empty silence. Their grandfather is too kind of a man, too caring, and not for the first time, Naoto wishes they’d known their friend sooner so that maybe, just maybe, they could have eased the some of the solitude off one another shoulders.

“Do you need any help?” they ask quietly, taking care not to startle him. Alone like this, with the sounds of the party in the next room muffled by the dim light and the separating walls, Naoto consciously drops the “senpai” from the end of their question. It’s something the pair of them (along with Kanji-kun) have started doing ever since the events of December, when the footing between them all had shifted into something a bit more equal, a bit more stable. The word still exits in Naoto’s thoughts, yes, but only as an affectionate form of respect for their leader, their upperclassman. Aloud, though, when it’s just one or both of them and their _friend,_ without anyone else around, they all simply… exist. Formalities are forgotten, titles and honorifics dropped, and for that sacred length of time the three of them find the ability to think of themselves as human and nothing else beyond.

Their friend turns his head to look at them, movements slow like he’s coming out of a deep line of thought. A light blinks on behind his eyes as he sees them in the doorway and spreads like a small, harmless flame sparking into a crackling campfire. He smiles. “Possibly,” he admits, a hint of sheepishness lacing his voice. “Tatsumi-san went to bed a while ago, I think. I… forgot to ask her where she keeps her cake knife.” Pink dusts over his cheekbones and his smile turns just the tiniest bit self-depreciating. He curls his fingers around the back of his neck – a motion of discomfort no doubt picked up on from Yosuke-senpai, mimicked the way that couples often seem to do. He huffs, laughing at himself. “It didn’t seem polite to go hunting for it.”

Naoto smiles back at him. “Would you like the detective to do it?” they tease – an action they’re still getting used to being able to do.

Souji-senpai _‘snerks’._ “I don’t think that’s much better,” he says, but there is still laughter in his tone, so Naoto takes it as the return banter that it is.

They step further into the kitchen.

Together, they manage to locate the appropriate knife with minimal searching and Souji-senpai adds it to the small pile of things he’s been gathering on one of the trays from earlier that evening. Just like last time, he hands the tray off to Naoto, and then turns to open the refrigerator and duck his head inside. Naoto steps back to give him space to move but doesn’t yet return to the living room, content to keep observing for as long as they can in this liminal pocket of time.

Souji-senpai emerges from the refrigerator a moment later with a large cake box grasped firmly in both hands and nudges the door shut with his hip. Turning back to the counter and setting the box down, Souji-senpai looks up and seems to startle slightly at the sight of Naoto still loitering by the edge of the sink. “Oh,” he breathes, likely unaware he’s spoken, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait for me; I just need to plate this is all.” Grey eyes flick down to the tray in Naoto’s grasp, (which, admittedly, _is_ getting just a little heavy) and the faintest hint of a frown begins to tug at the line of his mouth. “You can head on out, if you’d like.”

The furrow of his brow does something to Naoto’s own. They frown slightly in return, not liking the unconscious flicker of guilt they spot behind their friend’s expression. “I don’t mind,” they say honestly.

Souji-senpai opens his mouth to reply. Naoto speaks instead.

“I _don’t._ ” They twist their mouth into a light smile, no more than a quirk of one corner, really, but it appears to do the trick.

Souji-senpai blinks at them, opens his mouth once more, shuts it again. He looks lost for a moment, like he isn’t sure how to respond or what he’s allowed to _do_ – it’s something Naoto knows their friend is still struggling with, _will_ struggle with for a while to come. Izanagi’s dungeon is a fresh memory, only a few weeks old at best, and it’d be unreasonable to expect Souji-senpai to come to terms with everything his Shadow had revealed about him any sooner than the rest of the IT had after their own.

Souji-senpai isn’t used to people being gentle around him, still doesn’t entirely know how to handle the knowledge that everyone _cares._ He’s so accustomed to playing a role, to holding himself in place, that when he’s faced with a situation in which he gets to be a normal person, he flounders. Even now, with something as simple as a friend waiting for him while he completes a self-appointed task, it’s clear to Naoto’s hyper-observant eyes that Seta Souji has no idea how to just… _be._

Souji-senpai only knows how to be a host or an ornamental guest; the role of _friend_ and _found family member,_ of someone _invited_ to the party and not just expected to be there on his best behavior is a concept that will probably take years to comprehend.

Naoto watches the line of their friend’s shoulders as he awkwardly transfers the cake (one that Naoto would bet real money he’d made from scratch himself,) from the box to a platter, likely feeling off-kilter at being watched as he works. Thankfully, his discomfort doesn’t seem to go any deeper than him simply being caught off guard, so Naoto doesn’t feel _too_ bad about it. It’s almost nice; it means that progress is being made.

Still, their thoughts from earlier refuse to go away. Knowing what they do now about Souji-senpai’s childhood – or lack thereof – the idea that he has no idea how to _be_ at a party without taking an active role is… worrying. There are many things it could say about him, and Naoto doesn’t like a single one.

“When is your birthday?”

The question is out of their mouth before Naoto can even consciously make the decision to ask it, and Souji-senpai’s shoulders are suddenly wound as tight as springs. Naoto doesn’t like what _that_ says, either.

He lets out a low breath, not quite a laugh but not quite anything else, and resolutely does not look up from where his fingers have stilled around rim of the cake platter. He stays like that for a few moments, silent, until at last the tension bleeds from his spine. He sags a little, like he’s suddenly somewhere far away. His voice is almost a whisper when he finally speaks.

“...Not until after I leave.”

Naoto feels something cold and heavy sink to the bottom of their stomach. _Oh._ They should have known; nothing about Souji-senpai’s life has been fair to him, why should this be any different?

But Souji-senpai has already straightened up, has adopted the mask that he used to wear like a second skin but no longer fits him properly, and is turning a very strained, plastic smile over his shoulder to where Naoto is standing. His eyes do not meet their own, instead landing somewhere behind them at the space beyond the doorway. “It’s alright, though. I don’t really celebrate it anyway.” His expression doesn’t change, but the edges start to harden, and when he _does_ flick his gaze down to catch Naoto’s for the span of a heartbeat, there is a horrible, bitter kind of sorrow lingering deep inside the rings of stormy-grey.

He shrugs. “Even _before_ my parents stopped pretending to give a shit, it never actually felt right.” He tilts his head and stretches his lips into a thin line – the facsimile of a joyless smile. “Wrong name on the birthday card, you know?”

And suddenly Naoto _does._

The realization feels like someone has dumped ice water over their head and they stand there as if stunned, mouth falling open in sympathy and horror. Of _course_. After everything that Izanagi had told them, after everything _else_ that Souji-senpai had told them later, Naoto cannot fathom how they never put this part of their friend’s past together with the rest of the puzzle. Their face burns with embarrassment – both at having blurted out the question without thinking, and at having missed such an important detail about someone they consider to be one of their closest friends.

There is a gentle pressure at their arm. They look up instinctively, cheeks still ablaze, to see that Souji-senpai has moved to stand beside them with the platter held securely in his hands. He watches them carefully from the side of his vision before quietly moving his elbow to nudge against them a second time. “Hey,” he murmurs, voice kind. “Don’t do that to yourself, I know you.”

Naoto feels their face burn harder, though this time it’s for a slightly different reason. They forget sometimes that they aren’t the only one in the Investigation Team that’s eerily adept at reading others.

Souji-senpai’s expression softens and he offers them a tired, barely-there smile. “It’s okay.”

Out of their entire group of friends, Naoto has known Souji-senpai the shortest amount of time. They were the last to join the IT, the last person pulled from the Midnight Channel before Nanako-chan’s kidnapping, the last to face their Shadow and come back to the real world with a Persona at their side. But there is a reason Souji-senpai had named them his tactician, his third in command, and it’s because of their ability to notice what others don’t. There is subtext in his words, an extra, unspoken message that he knows Naoto will pick up on. They sigh as they decode it, and with the exhalation they let go of the threads of self-depreciation that had begun to tangle in their mind. “Sorry,” they mumble anyway.

Souji-senpai just shakes his head, lips tilting a little higher. “Don’t be.” He readjusts the platter in his grip and gestures towards the doorway with a roll of his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, “we should get back in there before we’re missed.”

Naoto just nods and follows him out into the brightness of the living room, the tiny, timeless pocket of quiet closing behind them as if it had never been.

 

\---

 

February starts and January closes. Naoto does not think about the conversation in the kitchen.

 

March begins and February dies. Naoto does not think about how much they’ll all miss him when he has to go.

 

But then March ends.

March ends, and Adachi’s letter arrives.

There is the letter, a question, and then there is a goddess. There is a final showdown in the deepest pit of the underworld; a quick, cold death, followed by revival, followed by one last stand in defiance of Izanami’s false truths.

There is victory. A collective first breath of fresh, fogless air as the team emerges from the Junes electronics department to find the town of Inaba bathed in the light of triumphant sun.

March ends, and Dojima-san makes a phone call.

 

March ends, and Souji-senpai _doesn’t leave._

\---

 

It’s nearly the end of April before Naoto is once again reminded of the conversation that took place in the Tatsumi family’s kitchen, and the question that had sparked it.

The jog to their memory is brought about, appropriately, by their own encroaching birthday – which they had nearly forgotten about in all the chaos of the previous month and the overwhelming joy at no longer having to give Souji-senpai back to the prison of his parents’ house. It is Rise-chan that brings it up, catching Naoto after school and asking them point blank what they’d like to do for their birthday celebration, and Naoto all but balks at the implication.

It startles them into dumbfounded silence, leaving them standing there, blinking like a deer in headlights as Rise-chan good-naturedly giggles over having “stumped the detective.”

They genuinely hadn’t even thought about it.

They say as much to Rise-chan, who frowns a little and gently scolds them over not taking time to think about themself – especially since birthdays are “special” because it lets everyone show appreciation for someone they care about. Which, to be fair, Naoto cannot argue with; they’d thought the same about Kanji-kun and Yukiko-senpai’s birthdays. (They choose not bring up their own accidental hypocrisy to Rise-chan’s face and instead allow it to settle as a flustered blush across their cheekbones.)

Ages ago, when their parents were still alive, they remember Mother and Father taking time off work to spend their birthday with them, turning down any cases that arose until at least a day or two after Naoto’s birthday had passed. Those are good memories – ones that Naoto keeps safely tucked away inside a little box in their heart – even if they aren’t ones that Naoto allows themselves to visit much anymore.

In the years since, Naoto has often kept themself busy during the month of April. Sometimes it’s deliberate; sometimes they just… forget. It’s usually only when their grandfather sits them down at the dinner table and places a small iced pastry and a brightly colored gift box in front of them that they even realize what day it is. There have been a few occasions where Naoto has been away until well after the 27th has passed, so the sweets and the present sometimes don’t happen until a week or so into May, but there is always a phone call, always a card over-nighted to wherever they’re staying. It has been a very long time since Naoto has been made to think about their birthday _well in advance._

(Then again, after witnessing everyone happily throwing Kanji-kun a birthday party and _trying_ to throw one for Yukiko-senpai, they probably shouldn’t be so surprised that the same would happen to them as well.)

Naoto revisits the encounter in their head later on as they make their way home, turning it over this way and that and layering it over several things at once as they’ve done a million times before on a million actual cases. They think about their own history with birthdays, about how the very idea of someone other than their grandfather actually _wanting_ to do something for them, _with_ them on their birthday has become so foreign a concept that they don’t know how to react like a regular person. It’s almost uncomfortable, how disarmed they’d felt. And yet, allowing themself to picture it, a small celebration with friends, it’s… nice. It does still scare them a little in its unfamiliarity, but not so much as to overpower the tiny blip of excitement and childlike glee that sits just below the surface of the fear. A smile makes its way to their face and they let it stay, warm in the glow of the scene in their head.

The glow is gone by the next morning but the mental train tracks have been laid, so the thoughts stay. Naoto runs through them every so often as the school day passes, angling them in new directions whenever the lectures get to be too boring for them to pay attention to, and only really pulling themself back out when lunchtime rolls around. Souji-senpai sticks his head through the door just as Naoto is standing up to stretch the feeling back into their legs and holds up a bento, tilting his head in question as he smiles that quiet smile of his. Naoto wastes no time in following him out the door and up onto the roof.

They talk as they pick slowly at the bento, trading topics back and forth like a pair of regular teenagers without a single, supernatural care in the world. It’s wonderful. Naoto lets their mind split back to Rise-chan the day before, asking what Naoto would like to do for their birthday, and thinks, _this._ This is what would make their birthday another happy memory: staying with their friends just a little bit longer, being allowed to act like the kid they are for once, without fear of rejection or persecution. They think their grandfather would approve.

“Your birthday is coming up soon, right?” Souji-senpai asks suddenly, as if reading Naoto’s thoughts. His voice is light, relaxed, no longer deliberately controlled to be lower than it’s normally wont to be. Naoto considers it an honor to be able to hear it, even if they know it’s not _Souji-senpai’s_ voice, just the voice that came with his body; it’s yet another little way their friend is comfortable around them and it makes Naoto feel _good._

Naoto nods, still chewing, and Souji-senpai hums brightly, his smile stretching just a bit wider in a kind of gentle fondness. “Is there anything specific you’d like?” he says. He laughs softly. “I’m getting pretty good at home-made cake. Let me know what your favorite is and I’ll find a recipe for it.”

And just like that, Naoto feels their entire body go warm.

Souji-senpai must see how flustered he’s made them, because he gives another breathy chuckle – still not wholly alright with laughing beyond a huff in his body’s voice – and holds the bento a tiny bit closer. Naoto shovels a hunk of rice into their mouth to avoid responding.

“Sorry,” he says, still smiling, though he doesn’t really sound it at all. “Didn’t mean to put you on the spot there.”           

Naoto side-eyes him as they chew, taking their sweet time so as not to give him the satisfaction of a reply. In turn, Souji-senpai gingerly picks himself out a sizable bite of fish and, innocently as can be, proceeds to occupy his mouth with it. (Somehow, the smile stays put.)

If Kanji-kun’s smiles are hard-won, a product of someone bringing out the rare, calmer side of his personality and the loyalty that comes with it, Souji-senpai’s smiles – his _real_ ones – have to be coaxed out of hiding. It’s like convincing a feral cat that you aren’t going to hurt them, that you mean no harm and are worthy of trust. Souji-senpai only ever peels back the mask when the tension in his shoulders is soothed away – and that’s why, at first, those genuine, more natural smiles only ever came out for the people he was comfortable enough around to let himself breathe.

On the surface, Souji-senpai never seems to emote past the polite, default expression he usually wears. Naoto is trained to read people, though, and has long since learned where to look. Souji-senpai hides his emotions, absolutely, but he _does_ have them, and to anyone that knows what to look for he is actually incredibly expressive. His face, his body language, the way he says things, it’s all based on nuance; his voice can go from calm and neutral to stony and cold in the span of a single word, and his shoulders and the set of his jaw hold most if not all of his tension.

It’s the same with his smiles. There is one he wears for the world – _when_ he wears one for the world – and then another that he wears among friends or family. Then there are the personalized ones. Each member of the Investigation Team has a customized smile, as if Souji-senpai has crafted each one specifically for their intended person with tiny, minute shifts in detail that speak volumes in their silence. One is thoughtful and understanding, another is patient and encouraging, one is warmhearted and perpetually amused. One is even conspiratorial in nature, an almost unseen mischievousness that plays off its receiver’s nature as organically as water in a river. Each is just barely different – all are real.

But then there are the ones with an extra layer to them, the ones reserved for the handful of people that _get_ Souji-senpai on a deeper, more personal level. There is one for Nanako-chan: soft and kind, laced with gentle hope and pride. One for Kanji-kun: bright and subtly excited, like he’s forever interested in anything Kanji-kun has to say and is glad when he says it without fear. And one for Naoto: quiet and knowing, edged with constant tiredness in a way that denotes just how much he’s able to let his guard down around them.

(Yosuke-senpai also has his own special smile, and it’s so full of desperate, all-consuming affection, gratitude, _devotion,_ that it nearly hurts to look at. Naoto doesn’t think Yosuke-senpai even knows just how much emotion his lover has poured into that look, but it’s clear he cherishes it all the same.)

Right now, woven into that tired, peaceful smile that belongs to Naoto, there are threads of teasing, of causal happiness, and it _belongs_ there in a way that only something a person has been deprived of for too long can. For a moment, Naoto wonders if this is what Souji-senpai feels whenever he’s with Nanako-chan.

It is in this teasing quiet that Naoto’s brain begins to take the thoughts from last night, from class, and turn them over again. It calls up thoughts of Souji-senpai, of birthdays, pulling and twisting until it unearths the memory of Tatsumi-san’s kitchen and the way Souji-senpai had held his face and voice and body tight like it had tugged at ancient scar tissue.

_(“When is your birthday?”_

_“Not until after I leave.”)_

Naoto’s mouth opens; their lungs fill.

“You aren’t leaving.”

Souji-senpai glances up from where he’s been poking at the bento, separating what’s left into equal portions. Eyes like river stones shift over to look at them, his head titled in minor confusion.

Naoto moves to meet his questioning gaze, bringing a hand to their chin, index finger over their lips – a habit formed from years and years of over thinking. “Back in January, you said your birthday wasn’t until after you left.” They tilt their own head to mirror his, watching as understanding spreads behind his eyes. “But you aren’t leaving anymore.”

Souji-senpai nods slowly, the corners of his eyes twitching in an aborted wince. “I also said I don’t really celebrate it anyway.” His voice is neutral, unperturbed, but there is a sour note to the end of his words – bitter and sad and resigned.

Naoto blinks, furrowing their brows slightly. “But you could now, with us.”

But Souji-senpai just shakes his head and turns his eyes back down to watch his chopsticks poking at the leftover vegetables. “I appreciate the offer, but…” He sighs. It’s a low, unhappy sound. “I’d really rather just not.” When he looks up again his smile is strained and his eyes do not quite meet with Naoto’s own.

Naoto presses their finger tighter against their lower lip, frowning. They want to protest, to argue that there are people now that _want_ to celebrate with him, that will _be there_ to do so if he said the word. But they don’t. Instead, Naoto keeps their mouth closed and their thoughts inside, even as they ache to shout, _“we care about you!”_

Because they get it.

They get it, and they hate Souji-senpai’s parents even more for it, for taking one more thing away from him that should have been _good,_ should have been _happy._ They hate that there is a stain on yet another piece of their friend’s life.

The minutes go back to passing in silence, only this time it’s more sad than comfortable. It isn’t _awkward_ , exactly, just heavier, and Naoto finds themself going back over everything again and again in a weird kind of loop – just like they do when elements of a case make no sense. It… helps, sometimes. Even if they don’t manage to suss out anything new, they at least confirm this situation to themselves, which can eliminate doubt on their end.

 

_(“Even before my parents stopped pretending to give a shit, it never actually felt right.”)_

 

Even when Naoto was at their loneliness, there had always been at least one person there to let them know they were loved. Mother and Father, then Grandfather; no matter how isolated Naoto had thought themself, they still had _family._ They were never entirely alone.

But Souji-senpai has never had that. Before Inaba, before Dojima-san and Nanako-chan had taken him in and _kept_ him, Souji-senpai’s “family” had been solely made up of his absent, abusive parents. Kanji-kun had once described them as “fucking garbage” – a sentiment that Naoto was all too inclined to agree with. And it hadn’t just been the borderline abandonment, either, nor the blatant disdain they seemed to have for his existence. The worst of it, the part that had nearly broken him, if Izanagi was to be believed, had been the complete and utter _hatred_ they had shown him in regards to his identity.

 

_(“Wrong name on the birthday card, you know?”)_

Little wonder he wanted nothing to do with the date on which his mother had given birth; it was the day his _body_ had been born, not Souji-senpai himself.

_…That’s it!_

Naoto lifts their head again and turns to stare almost feverishly at their friend’s face, wordlessly willing him to look over at them and meet their eyes. He does, obviously confused and slightly uneasy at the intensity Naoto knows is etched into the crease of their brows.

“May I ask something else?” they say, keeping their tone as collected as they can in light of their new idea.

“Uh,” comes the response, hesitant and vaguely on guard. “Sure?” Souji-senpai’s eyes flick to the side for a moment as he shifts to offer Naoto his full – albeit wary – attention.

Naoto sits a little straighter. “When did you get your name?”

“My… name?” He blinks at them, eyes wide as he tries to catch up.

“Yes, your name. Do you remember when you first acquired it?

Souji-senpai huffs softly. His lips quirk upwards at the corners; a playful gesture despite obviously still unsure of what is currently transpiring. Then he turns away again. He fixes his gaze somewhere off in front of him, out across the rooftop and along the clear blue plane of the sky above. The playful smile slips from his face and becomes something quieter, nostalgic – reflective and sad but still with the faint coloring of years-old joy.

“I was, hmmm. Seven at the time, I think?” A cool spring breeze drifts by, sweeping a few strands of hair across his eyes and he shuts them, leans his head back slightly to pull the memory out of its carefully protected packaging. He stays that way for a moment or two, just breathing, and Naoto watches the curving of his mouth when he finally speaks again. “I had a friend that lived in the apartment building behind ours. He helped me pick it out.”

Naoto tries very hard not to be impatient. They _want_ to hear the story, they _want_ to know about the good parts of Souji-senpai’s past because they know too much about the awful parts and there _needs_ to be something to balance it out. But they are also running out of time before the end of lunch, and this is _important._ They purse their lips as tightly as they can and do their damndest not to fidget.

Their efforts pay off, though, because Souji-senpai’s eyes reopen and he glances over at them with a wistful tilt of his lips. “First of May,” he says, and it sounds like the ghost of a long-passed sob. “He said it was fitting that I picked my new name on the first of something, like I was starting over.” Souji-senpai sighs, breathing out the last of the lingering emotion tied to the memory. The breeze returns and sweeps it away.

The both of them are startled out of the moment as the bell sounds from just inside the stairwell door, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of the mad scramble for every student not in their classrooms to make it back in time. There is a split second where they simply sit there, looking at one another, before they both fly into action. Souji-senpai hurriedly stuffs the bento back into its bag while Naoto looks around to make sure they haven’t accidentally left anything on the ground. They sprint for the stairs a few moments later, side by side with breathless, stupid grins.

They part ways at the third floor, where Souji-senpai dashes back to his room with a wave over his shoulder. Naoto returns it as they round the corner of the stairwell. They hop the last couple of steps to the landing and nearly stumble before catching themselves, only half paying attention as they turn again and head down the last section of stairs leading to the second year classes.

Their mind is already buzzing with ideas before they even sit back down.

 

\---

Ten days.

In retrospect, Naoto is exceedingly lucky that Souji-senpai hadn’t given them a date that had already passed, as that could have been a massive wrench in their plans if that had been the case. Thankfully, though, he hadn’t, and while there isn’t nearly as much time as Naoto would have liked to put their plan into motion, it _is_ at least doable. Hopefully.

There is still a week before their own birthday, and then three more days after that until the 1st. It falls on a Tuesday this year, which is regrettable, but Naoto’s falls on the preceding Friday and they’re fairly certain everyone will want to celebrate on the weekend like they did with Kanji-kun. Which means that, unless the two dates are combined into a singular get-together on the same day, (which Naoto does _not_ want; Souji-senpai deserves his own party) there is a danger of his celebration not happening until the weekend of the 6th. It wouldn’t be a _terrible,_ but the 1st is a much preferable date.

There is a statement to be made on that day, after all.

They waste no time after school in grabbing Kanji-kun by the arm and signaling to Rise-chan to follow after them, high tailing it down the hall into the practice building to look for an empty room. The moment the three of them are inside, Naoto shuts the door behind them and whirls around like a person possessed.

Both of their friends stare at them with a mix of confusion and worry – Kanji-kun especially looks like he’s gearing up for a fight the moment Naoto tells him whom to throttle. Rise-chan’s eyes are wide and alert, zeroed in on Naoto with the same laser focus that Kanzeon has in battle. Naoto realizes they… may have overdone it.

Still, this is one of the rare cases where the ends justify the means and Naoto’s mission is important. They need their teammates for this in a way they’ve never needed anyone before. Taking a deep breath, they start.

“Souji-senpai’s name day is May 1st and I need your help to put together a party.”

There is a moment where no one reacts; both their friends stand there silent, blinking at them like Naoto has just been speaking rapid-fire English instead of Japanese, and Naoto has to quell the habitual urge to purse their lips in anxious frustration. But then Rise-chan seems to process what was just said, because suddenly her entire face is splitting into the most blindingly gleeful expression Naoto thinks they’ve ever seen – which is saying something, having know the girl now for _months._

The idol squeals, bringing her hands up under her chin and clasping them together as she bounces on the balls of her feet in delight. “Ohmigosh, _really?!_ ” She presses her mouth against her knuckles and squeals again, the sound morphing into an exuberant, close-lipped cackle in the back of her throat about halfway through. “This is fantastic!”

Naoto feels a surge of relief.

_Maybe this will be easier than I thought._

In contrast to Rise-chan’s animated reaction, however, Kanji-kun stands rigid, shoulders hunched nervously like he’s thinks he’s about to be scolded. “Uhm,” he starts, clearly still confused as he glances back and forth between the two of them with furrowed brows. “Hey, so, I’m all for throwing Senpai a party but uh…” He trails off, rubbing at the nape of his neck sheepishly as he looks back over at Naoto with a lost expression. Finally he gives an awkward cough and mumbles, “what’s a name day?”

Rise-chan playfully swats at kanji-kun’s shoulder before Naoto can respond. “It’s like a birthday, silly,” she giggles, the high of her enthusiasm still running strong. “Only instead of when they’re born, you celebrate the day a person first gets to be _themself_ – like when Souji-senpai picked his name!”

“But… why not celebrate his birthday?”

Rise-chan makes a strange, gravelly noise behind her teeth. “What’s wrong with his name day?” she counters, hands on her hips in the start of a huff.

“Nothing!” Kanji-kun splutters. His face turns a vibrant shade of burning red. “I didn’t mean—! I just… why not _both?”_

“He refused to tell me his birthday,” Naoto responds. “I do not think he wishes to acknowledge it, due to it being…” They pause, thinking of how to word their thoughts without crossing a line they don’t want to. Souji-senpai isn’t around to hear it, obviously, but referring to his assigned gender in any way still makes _Naoto_ uncomfortable in the most empathic way imaginable. “…Not… _his_ birthday,” they finally mumble out. They wince; casual communication has never been their strong suit.

It must be enough, though, because Kanji-kun lets out a soft, “oh” as the light bulb clicks on behind his eyes, which slowly start to widen in realization. He is ramrod straight an instant later, the lines of his body sharp and tense like he’s been hot wired with battle-born adrenaline as he stands there practically vibrating with barely contained excitement. He turns to Naoto (who gives a happy nod in confirmation), before breaking into a wide grin of his own and punching a fist up into the air. “Oh _hell_ yeah!” he crows. “Screw the birthday, this is _way_ better!”

Rise’s smile grows impossibly brighter. “This is so cool, we _never_ get to do anything special for Souji-senpai.”

_That’s because he never **lets** us_, Naoto thinks with a pang of sadness; _he doesn’t think he deserves it…_

The room goes uncomfortably silent. Looking up, Naoto catches sight of their friends watching them, expressions pinched and aggrieved. It takes them a second to figure out why. “Oh, I… said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Rise-chan nods slowly while Kanji-kun looks down and away. “You’re right, though,” she whispers, and her voice is just as pained as her eyes. She, too, looks away, casting her gaze downwards towards her feet as the light from her earlier giddiness fades to something bittersweet. She falls quiet again for a few more seconds before sadly, timidly, she murmurs, “Do you think Senpai’d even _want_ us to throw him a party?”

Oh.

Naoto feels themself deflate. As horrible as it is to think about, Rise-chan does have a point; Souji-senpai had made it very clear that he wasn’t comfortable talking about his birthday, which was why Naoto had asked about his name day in the first place. However, even with the with the fresh exhaustion of Izanagi’s intervention months behind him, Naoto is aware of how long it will be before Souji-senpai is healed enough to be in a better place mentally. Just because he’s learned that others care for him doesn’t mean he’s learned how to care for himself. In all likelihood, the process will begin with caring only because others do, in an attempt to make his friends happy – caring just for his own sake will take a far longer span of time to kick in.

There is a very strong chance that their friend will either only go along with their party plans for _their_ benefit and not truly allow himself to enjoy it, or will try and talk them out of it altogether. Neither choice is a good one.

“Well...” Kanji-kun says into the depressive silence, nearly startling the others with the unexpected sound. “Th-then we just don’t tell him.”

Naoto looks up at him sharply, the gears in their head beginning to turn. Across from them, Rise-chan does the same.

Kanji-kun seems to draw strength from their reaction, straightening his shoulders and nodding to himself. “You know, like… like a surprise. He can’t shoot us down if he doesn’t know we’re doin’ it in the first place.”

Rise-chan perks up like a cat, smile creeping back into place along her down-turned mouth. “Yeah,” she whispers; then, louder, “yeah!” And suddenly she is beaming, bright and eager with a newfound determination. “And if it’s a surprise then it’ll mean more, too, because it’ll prove we _want_ to do nice things for him!”

A weight shifts in Naoto’s chest, cracking and falling away to make it easier to breathe. This could work. This could _actually_ work.

“There’s still the possibility that he won’t appreciate being surprised like that,” Naoto says, because, well, there _is,_ “but I agree. I doubt he’d be upset at the knowledge that we were thinking of him.”

“Then it’s settled!” Rise-chan claps her hands together and fixes them both with a thousand-watt smile. “Operation ‘Give Senpai The Best Name Day Ever’ is a go!”

Naoto just barely manages to stifle a chuckle while Kanji-kun mutters a quiet, “are we seriously callin’ it that?” under his breath.

They pretend to ignore the way Rise-chan smacks at Kanji-kun’s arm again in retaliation and instead turn to grab their school bag from where they’d slung it off to the side upon entering the room. They hide their amusement by digging inside for a quasi-empty notebook, smothering down a snort of laughter at Kanji-kun’s “hey—ow!” Once the sounds behind them have stopped, they emerge from their hunt, notebook in hand and open, and pull a pen from their jacket pocket with what someone besides themself might call a _flourish._

“Alright,” they say with a decisive click of their pen, “what do we need to start?”

Rise-chan’s smile turns positively manic.

 

 

They part ways roughly an hour later, with Naoto’s notebook now having several pages dedicated to scrawled notes and party ideas. At one point, Rise-chan had brought up Naoto’s own birthday party – which was indeed confirmed to be scheduled for the following weekend – but the three of them had unanimously agreed that Souji-senpai’s party _absolutely must_ be held on Tuesday the 1st. Luckily, it seemed that any arrangements Rise-chan had been making for Naoto’s birthday were already done and thus wouldn’t interfere with their mission. She didn’t elaborate – only mischievously hinted that she’d spearheaded the planning alongside Souji-senpai, and enlisted the rest of the team to gather on the chosen Saturday with whatever pieces they’re responsible for. All of this, however, Naoto had already long since guessed.

Their plan is broken down as such: because this is Naoto’s idea and because they’re the most knowledgeable in this particular situation, they’re responsible for the planning overall. Gathering the others, approving or vetoing aspects, doling out tasks, choosing whom to involve and whom to not since the concept of a name day party will require explanation; all of these are things that Naoto is comfortable doing. (After all, it’s just like rounding up the necessary resources for a particularly stealthy case.)

Kanji-kun had, surprisingly, suggested asking his mother to teach him how to bake. Souji-senpai had done so much to help with _his_ birthday, and Kanji-kun admitted that he’s been wanting to return the favor for a while now. (Not only that, but also because the only member of the group able to produce anything edible is Souji-senpai, and a store-bought cake absolutely _will not do.)_ Both Rise-chan and Naoto had liked the idea, and Naoto had even awkwardly asked if they could learn as well in order to help. With a stammer and a blush, Kanji-kun had agreed.

Rise-chan is next. Being the most experienced with, well, _all of this,_ she is in charge of the finer details. She’d volunteered to talk to Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai about prep and potentially figuring out some kind of food situation, which, she assured, also included adamantly keeping the other girls from trying to make any of it themselves. She’d also offered to see about finding them a location to hold the party, (possibly the Amagi Inn,) but had agreed to wait on that particular front until after Naoto talks to Dojima-san.

Ideally, Naoto would like to have the whole affair take place at the Dojima residence, where Souji-senpai can feel safe and comfortable. It’s also imperative that Nanako-chan and her father be involved with the celebration somehow, even if it’s just having them be present, so throwing the party at Dojima-san’s house would just be the most practical thing to do. It would also give them the chance to help out with preparations if they so chose – and if nothing else, the team could put Nanako-chan and Teddie on decoration duty. Naoto plans to give Dojima-san a call just as soon as they know Souji-senpai is off at one of his part time jobs and well away from anywhere he could overhear.

Yosuke-senpai is appointed the job of acting as Souji-senpai’s distraction. No one has yet contacted him to tell him so, but none of them doubt that he’ll be completely on board.

All that’s left now is to start putting everything into action.

 

\---

 

**Shirogane:** DO U OR TEDDIE WORK ON THE 1ST?

**Yosuke-senpai:** idk abt ted but i dnt think i do? y?

**Shirogane:** GOOD. MAKE SURE U DONT

**Shirogane:** WE R THROWING A SURPRISE PRTY 4 SOUJI-SENPAI & U R THE DISTRACTION

**Yosuke-senpai:**!!!!!!???????

**Yosuke-senpai:** just tell me wat u need me 2 do!

 

\---

 

**Shirogane:** DID U ASK HER?

**Kanji-kun:** yeah she got all happy & pulled out gma’s cookbooks.

**Kanji-kun:** she’s teachin me the basics after school tomorrow. said to invite you.

**Shirogane:** I WILL B THERE. WHAT TIME?

**Kanji-kun:** around closing? startin after dinner I guess.

**Kanji-kun:** uh. she said to invite you to dinner too.

**Shirogane:** I WDNT WANT 2 IMPOSE

**Kanji-kun:** I don’t think she’s givin us a choice. ma’s kinda scary when she’s excited.

**Shirogane:** I AM UNSURE HOW 2 RESPOND 2 THAT

**Kanji-kun:** me too.

 

\---

 

_“Dojima speaking.”_

“Dojima-san, hello.”

_“Shirogane?”_

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I have something important to ask you. It concerns Souji-senpai. _“_

_“Souji? What’s wrong, is he alright?”_

“No, no, nothing’s wrong! Forgive me, I didn’t mean… We want to throw him a surprise party.”

_“…Oh.”_

_“_ Yes.”

_“Wait, so… a party. Like a birthday party?”_

“Yes and no?”

_“Oh_ hell _. Is it coming up soon? He’s never said anything, and with as busy as this past year’s been it didn’t even cross my mind!”_

“That doesn’t surprise me, honestly; Souji-senpai has expressed an intense dislike for his legal date of birth. However, he has stated that he first acquired his chosen name on May the 1st, so we’ve elected to celebrate on that date instead.”

_“The 1 st, huh? Wow. That’s… soon.”_

“It is. We would have started planning much earlier, but we all just found out ourselves a few hours ago.”

_“Thank you for telling me. Souji’s a good kid, but I doubt he would have told me any of this on his own.”_

“Sadly, you’re probably right.”

_(A sigh.)_

_“Okay. So the 1 st. Yeah, I can probably clock out early then. I’m going to assume that you’re calling to ask if you can have the party at the house, right?”_

“Ah. Well, yes, actually. If possible.”

_(A laugh.)_

_“If Nanako found out there was a party for her big brother and it_ wasn’t _being held at our place, she’d never forgive me for it.”_

“Thank you, Dojima-san.”

_“Heh. After everything he’s done for us, it’s the absolute_ least _I can do for him.”_

\---

 

**Rise-chan:** Naoto-kuuuuuuuun! I spoke to Chie-senpai!

**Rise-chan:** Yukiko-senpai was working earlier so she’ll have to call me back. But!

**Rise-chan:** Chie-senpai and I are going shopping this weekend to get party supplies~

**Rise-chan:** How did it go with Dojima-san?

**Shirogane:** IT WENT WELL. WE CAN HAVE THE PRTY @ THEIR HOUSE ON THE 1ST

**Shirogane:** HES ALSO GOING 2 TALK 2 NANAKO-CHAN

**Rise-chan:** Awesome!!!!

**Rise-chan:** oh brb phone

**Shirogane:** RISE-CHAN?

**Rise-chan:** Sorry!! Yukiko-senpai just called me back. She’s coming this weekend, too~

**Rise-chan:** She also said we could look for places that cater while in Okina.

**Rise-chan:** If we don’t find anything she’ll ask at the inn for a small dinner spread.

**Shirogane:** THAT IS MOST GENEROUS OF HER

**Shirogane:** I WORRY ABT SUCH SHORT NOTICE THO

**Rise-chan:** Plan C is takeout from Aiya’s~

**Rise-chan:** (Last resort is Junes but I reeeeeeaaaally don’t want to.)

**Shirogane:** AGREED

**Shirogane:** U R GOOD @ THIS

**Rise-chan:** Why Naoto-kun~ Was that a compliment? ;3

**Shirogane:** GN RISE-CHAN

 

\---

 

The weekend passes in the weirdest, most jarring clash of furious activity and jittery stillness.

It begins the very next day at school – which is mercifully a Saturday and therefore not a full day, so Naoto only has to stifle their anxious fidgeting for half as long as they might have otherwise. It’s still nigh on unbearable. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the last class of the morning ends and Naoto is on their feet and booking it out of the room as fast as their platform shoes will allow them to travel. They meet up with Kanji-kun and Rise-chan by the shoe lockers and wait for their senpai to come downstairs.

They don’t have to wait long. Souji-senpai hurries over, freshly changed out of his uniform and into more casual clothing. He waves to them as he changes shoes, apologizing for being unable to stay longer; he has a shift at the daycare center that afternoon. Naoto sends the rest of the group a confirmation text the moment Souji-senpai is out the door.

The group meets up at Junes about half an hour later, all of them instinctively heading up to the food court upon arrival and making a beeline for the table that used to serve as their secret headquarters all those months ago. It’s oddly nostalgic in a way. The location and the company and the impending deadline make the whole situation feel intensely reminiscent of a time not too long passed – which is both a pleasant and an unpleasant thing for Naoto to be reminded of, given the circumstance. Thankfully, however, the reason for this particular meeting is of a much happier origin, though arguably _is_ of the same level of importance.

They sit and pool their information, with Naoto and Rise-chan rehashing the myriad of texts from the night before. After that is open discussion. Decorations are discussed (with the strict rule that absolutely _nothing_ may contain the word “birthday”), along with a possible guest list. Eventually – though they all know of several people that would love to come and celebrate Souji-senpai’s existence with them – they decide it would be best to only include the members of the Investigation Team and the Dojima household. Souji-senpai isn’t _out_ to anyone aside from them that they know of, hasn’t told anyone else about his parents and the reason he hates his legal birthday so much, so finding a way to invite Ebihara-senpai or Souji-senpai’s friends from the sports clubs without giving away the underlying significance of the party will, sadly, be too tricky to pull off. (Naoto has their suspicions about Konishi-kun, but until anything is confirmed they aren’t going to investigate further; it isn’t _their_ secret to expose.)

The conversation turns to food shortly after. Then to cake. Then to appropriate presents. All the while, each of Naoto’s friends looks to them for approval, for their input, and while it flusters them a little they find themself excited as well. There is a cozy swell of pride and childlike eagerness inside their chest, resting comfortably against their heart and making it beat faster with the knowledge that their plan really _is_ coming to fruition. For what might very well be the first time in a long time, Souji-senpai will be shown the appreciation he deserves. Naoto has to suck in a long, slow breath through their nose to even out their giddy, quickened breathing.

Once the plan is laid out and everyone is on the same page, Teddie pulls out his phone, puts it on speaker, and calls the Dojima landline. They fill Nanako-chan in on everything they’ve decided; she takes her time mulling everything over as they tell it, asking a question every so often and throwing in her own two cents as only the most discerning of little sisters can. She has the final say, Naoto tells her. Nothing will be done without her approval – after all, as much as Naoto loves Souji-senpai, as much as the IT loves him, as much as _Yosuke-senpai_ loves him (which is even a different brand of love entirely), Nanako-chan is undisputedly the one that loves Souji-senpai most in the world. Her opinion is not to be taken lightly.

They stay on the phone with Nanako-chan until all current aspects of the plan meet with her approval. The afternoon has worn on by that point, and since nothing more can really be done until the next morning the group decides to call it done for the day. Perfect timing, too, because as absorbed as they’d been with all the planning, Naoto hadn’t realized just how close it’s become to evening.

They walk with Kanji-kun and Rise-chan to the shopping district, where they part ways with Rise-chan in front of the tofu shop before continuing on to Tatsumi Textiles.

Dinner with Tatsumi-san is lovely.

(The practice cake the two of them manage to turn out, however, is not.)

Sunday is somehow less and _more_ busy all at the same time.

Yosuke-senpai has to work, but on his break he messages the group chat several times with pictures of things he’s spotted around the store that he’s using as inspiration for his present. He also sends links to things he’d spent all night looking at online – including things like a new binder, which is sweet and practical and Naoto appreciates the thought behind it but also knows it’d be hard to get the fit right without Souji-senpai’s input. They politely tell him as much.

(They also know about the personal attachment Souji has to his old one, stretched out as it is after all the fighting he’s done in it, which Naoto and Yosuke-senpai both still hound him for. He’d _almost_ bought himself a newer one at some point, one with a zipper, but he’d decided against it last minute and Naoto thinks it was less about saving the money for new armor and more about not being able to part with something so important to him.)

Yosuke-senpai take it pretty well, but follows it up with lamenting over the binder being his best gift idea. Naoto has to gently remind him that he’s _dating_ Souji-senpai; he knows the boy better than anyone at this point. There is a bit of back and forth for a few minutes, in which Yosuke-senpai keeps insisting he has no idea what to get and Naoto reassures Yosuke-senpai _repeatedly_ that he is, in fact Souji-senpai’s best friend and that they themself are no better suited to picking out gifts based on their history of quiet solidarity. Naoto knows their senpai is simply terrified of messing up, not that he’s deliberately being dense, but _GOD_ it’s still ever-so-slightly exhausting watching Yosuke-senpai flounder like the anxious, love-sick idiot that he can so often be. Sometimes it’s endearing to see him acting like a first-year with a crush rather than someone who’s been in a relationship for nearly six months. Now is not one of those times.

Eventually Chie-senpai chimes in to tell him to shut up, and Yukiko-senpai suggests something that invokes a rare _happy_ childhood memory (“Perhaps a book or an action figure? Souji-kun is the sentimental type…”), and Yosuke-senpai abruptly goes quiet for the next four hours.

Meanwhile, Rise-chan and the other girls head out to Okina to shop for party supplies – partly because they don’t want to risk running into Souji-senpai anywhere in town, and partly because Inaba, while charming, is limited in its selection. There is also the fear that someway, somehow, the gossips in town will notice what everyone is buying and ask. On its own, that wouldn’t pose a problem; the issue apparently lies with the fact that they’ve already been shopping for supplies for Naoto’s party, so doing it all over again so soon might pique some innocent curiosity.

There is also the added bonus of present shopping, as well as possibilities for party food that isn’t just the usual fair, so all in all it’s going to be a long, full day for the three of them.

Teddie drops in on the chat sometime that afternoon once his shift is finished to give them an update on his own progress. Earlier, while on break, he’d called Nanako-chan to ask if she would like to accompany him to Junes to shop for “groceries”. Souji-senpai had apparently been at home as well, and while he’d been reluctant at first to let Nanako-chan out of his sight, a well-placed “pleeeeeeeease, Oniichan?” had swayed him over. With Souji-senpai’s permission, Teddie now had at least two hours to help “Nana-chan” look for a gift of her own.

There was also talk of making a banner for the party, which was met with enthusiastic approval from Rise-chan. Teddie promised to let her know what colors they wound up choosing so that the girls could pick out decorations in a matching color scheme. (At this point Naoto is unashamed to admit that they are more than a little intimidated by Rise-chan and her event planning skills.)

Naoto themself winds up spending most of the day in the company of Kanji-kun, who has been looking through every pattern book in the textile shop for ideas on a handmade gift. He calls Naoto up a short while after Teddie has finished spamming the group chat and invites them over to help him narrow down his list. The pair spends a good portion of the day in Tatsumi-san’s living room, trying to decide whether a knitted cat plush would be a good enough present before Kanji-kun scraps the whole idea in frustration and admits that he doesn’t want to just give Souji-senpai something _cute,_ he wants to make him something _helpful._

They discuss the obvious choices – such as a scarf or a sweater – but quickly rule them out when it becomes apparent that clothing will require sizing and anything warm isn’t going to be practical in the approaching heat of summer. It’s a bit disheartening; the longer it takes to think of something to make, the less time Kanji-kun will have to gather supplies and actually _make_ it, and Naoto feels powerless to help when the most they know about sewing crafts is how to mend the occasional tear in their favorite hat. To save themselves from burnout they take a break to order lunch from Aiya, grabbing extra for Tatsumi-san as a way of saying thank you.

It’s actually Tatsumi-san that makes the suggestion to give Souji-senpai a blanket. “It doesn’t have to be for warmth,” she tells them with a knowing smile. “Sometimes a person just needs to feel like they’re being hugged.”           

Naoto spends the next twenty minutes doing research on the benefits of weighted blankets while Kanji-kun minds the store until his mother has finished her lunch.

_“For anxiety,”_ says one article; _“can help with PTSD and depression,”_ says another. _“Good for grounding, good for comforting, good for stimming, good for those with trouble sleeping”;_ the list goes on and on and by the time Tatsumi-san has taken back over at the front and the two teenagers are back in the living room, Kanji-kun is already plotting out what supplies he’ll need to make one. A quick text to the group chat and Rise-chan adds his requests to the pile of things to shop for while the girls are still in Okina.

The rest of the time before closing is spent with Kanji-kun looking through blanket patters to see if any can be modified. Naoto does what they can, but aside from helping to pick out colors and running their hands over different fabrics to determine the most pleasing textures, there isn’t really much more they can contribute. It’s almost a relief when Tatsumi-san reminds them of how late it is and invites Naoto to stay for dinner again with another baking lesson to follow.

For as busy as everyone has been all day, for all the advising Naoto has done among the members of the group, they themself don’t feel as if they’ve done anything particularly productive. The baking helps – the second cake attempt coming out far better than the one from the night before – but Naoto has never been a person that likes to sit and let others do all the physical work. Assuming the role of tactician is familiar and easy; not immediately following it up with being on the front lines is something they still need to get used to.

(It’s worth it though. Souji-senpai is worth it.)

 

\---

 

Monday marks the beginning of the countdown.

School starts back up and everyone is busy with their own responsibilities – family, work, assignments – and there just aren’t enough hours in the day anymore. It’s alright, though, Naoto tires to convince themself as the week begins to trickle by and their nerves slowly begin to eat away at them. It’s alright, because most of the preparations have been completed already (Rise-chan is very, _very_ good at this,) and now all that’s left is the individual pieces. All that’s left is to wait.

Kanji-kun works on the weighted blanket.

Yosuke-senpai has apparently found and ordered his gift online (though Naoto would be surprised if he wasn’t also planning something personal and likely romantic for whenever the boys have a moment alone).

Chie-senpai, Yukiko-senpai, and Rise-chan hadn’t found anything in the city that they deemed good enough in terms of dinner, but Yukiko-senpai had apparently spoken to the kitchen staff at the inn and told them she needed help cooking for a friend. With as much as the staff seems to tend to think of Yukiko-senpai as their own family, and with as much as they’ve been willing to help her out with her personal cooking endeavors in the past, the likelihood of them having to use the takeout-from-Aiya’s contingency plan is blessedly small. And, since it’s a small event with under a dozen people, it won’t take up too much precious time from their actual jobs. So the timeframe also looks to be doable. (Naoto still worries, but they trust the skill of the Amagi Inn’s kitchen staff.)

Two of the girls had all managed to find their gifts for Souji-senpai in Okina, as well, though Rise-chan was inspired while there. Kanji-kun had told Naoto later on that Rise-chan had come by the shop and commissioned his mother for something, but that he didn’t know anything beyond that.

Lastly, though Dojima-san was staying mostly out of the way, Teddie had confirmed that he and Nanako-chan had managed to put their own gift idea together on Sunday. The parts they were unable to do themselves, Dojima-san had helped with later on. All that was left was the banner Nanako-chan had wanted to make, though they already had the pieces bought and hidden away.

For their own part, Naoto spends nearly every evening over at the Tatsumi residence, helping Kanji-kun with the blanket where they can and continuing their cake-making education with Tatsumi-san after dinner. The woman is an absolute miracle, honestly; she runs the shop, works on orders, cooks, and then patiently teaches two novice bakers. Kanji-kun _does_ help with the shop, obviously – especially since Tatsumi-san is happily working double time on whatever it is that Rise-chan has ordered to make sure it’s ready by the 1st. Kanji-kun had said that she’d been positively delighted after Rise-chan had spoken to her, stating that she’d even tried to give their friend a discount (which Rise-chan had politely refused,) because the order was for “that wonderful boy that’s made you so happy, Kan-chan!” Kanji-kun’s face had been as red as the flames on his shirt while telling the story.

By the middle of the week, their test cakes have turned out pretty decent, which is a huge balm to Naoto’s nerves in and of itself. They won’t be able to get in any more practice until possibly Sunday, as Friday is their own birthday and Grandfather wants to spend it with them. They do feel a little guilty about being gone for dinner nearly every day for a week, but they’ve been on cases that have kept them away for longer and Grandfather knows how important this is to them, so Naoto tries not to feel _too_ badly.

Saturday will be a no-go as well, because whatever Rise-chan and Souji-senpai have planned for their celebration is taking place on Saturday evening. Still, Naoto is confident that they and Kanji-kun will be able to make something presentable by Monday night. It won’t be nearly as good as Souji-senpai’s baking – or Tatsumi-san’s, for that matter – but Naoto takes a bit of pride in what the two of them have managed to do in such a short amount of time.

So really, Naoto had no reason to be so anxious.

(It doesn’t stop them from _being_ anxious, though.)

 

 

Friday is a good day.

Their friends catch them – before school, during break, at the shoe lockers after class – to wish them a happy birthday. Souji-senpai invites them to lunch up on the roof again and surprises them with the seasoned-rice-and-tuna onigiri of his that they like so much. Grandfather is waiting for them when they return home, a loving hug and a small box wrapped in navy blue paper at the ready the moment Naoto walks in the door. It’s a good, happy day.

It’s made even better by the arrival of a long, thin envelope in their mailbox.

At first there is a flash of dread; the envelope has no return address and bears only the words, _To the Wheel of Fortune, for the Fool_ written in neat, feminine handwriting across the front. The dread dissipates, however, once Naoto cautiously pries the envelope open to reveal a smaller envelope and a note. Folded against the smaller envelope is a greeting card. The cover of the card sports a blue and black mask with something akin to a sunburst behind it, and several more shades of blue in a diamond pattern; it strongly resembles the image on the back of the tarot card they use when summoning Yamato Takero. The material is nice, durable, expensive. It’s obviously a custom-made piece, and as Naoto warily opens the card up to see _Happy Name Day, Souji_ in raised, cobalt letters, they realize just how _specifically_ custom-made it really is.

The note is also on high-quality paper, and written in that same looping penmanship that the package had been marked with. It reads:

_Shirogane Naoto,_

_I humbly request that you give this card to our mutual friend and confidant, Seta Souji, on Tuesday, May the 1 st as, regrettably, I will be unable to attend the celebration planned in his honor. I have taken the liberty of signing my name in advance and invite you and the rest of your teammates to do the same. _

_Best wishes on your birthday._

There is no name, no signature to indicate just who this mystery mailer is. It _should_ worry Naoto that someone other than the Investigation Team and the Dojimas knows about Souji-senpai’s party and the actual reason behind it, but the fact that it’s respectful and appropriate keeps them from being too on edge. That, and the image of the familiar mask on the front of the card itself both finally lead them to the conclusion that, whomever the sender is, they _know._ It doesn’t frighten them as much as they think it probably should.

Later that night, after their birthday dinner with Grandfather is over and they’ve gone their separate ways to bed, Naoto pulls the strange card back out and examines it under their bedside lamp. There in the corner, down at the bottom where their fingers had covered before, is a scrawl of metallic gold ink that simply says, _–Margaret._

\---

 

Naoto’s birthday celebration turns out to be a late-afternoon picnic at the Samegawa.

Rise-chan and Souji-senpai, it seems, had both agreed that anything larger, anything in an area with or involving more people would probably not be the most comfortable of situations for Naoto to sit through. However, since they’d wanted to do something slightly different that the dinner party they’d had for Kanji-kun, which had also given Tatsumi-san a chance to be involved with her son’s get-together, they’d decided on this instead. They had even come up with a secondary plan in case the weather had been against them, though with the bright sun and the warm wind, it obviously wasn’t needed. They smile at one another in that vaguely unnerving, silent, conspiratorial exchange of theirs and Naoto finds they just don’t have the courage to ask what their back up plan had been.

(Rise-chan and Souji-senpai working in any sort of collaboration is a special kind of powerful that borders on terrifying. Naoto doesn’t think a mere mortal such as themself would survive a full demonstration.)

Some of the food is store-bought, or was made with boxed ingredients, but Naoto genuinely does not mind. In fact, they prefer it that way somewhat, considering the culinary skills of the entire group combined is rudimentary at best. Kanji-kun, however, does come with a homemade offering – which he apparently did mostly on his own with Tatsumi-san only stepping in once or twice to give him advice as she supervised. Naoto does not attempt to hide their pride in him, and is rewarded for their own pink-faced compliments with a splutter and a blush so deep that Rise-chan jokes Kanji-kun could get part-time work as a traffic light.

Souji-senpai, of course, comes with not only a decently large spread of his own but also cake. (No one has to ask if he made it himself; even when the world was quite literally about to end at the hands of a creation goddess, Souji-senpai _still_ only ever made _everything_ entirely from scratch.) He brings two large bags with him – one with cold food he’d made and left to chill the night before, and one he’d gotten up early that morning to prepare and then quickly put into insulated containers to keep it reasonably warm. Naoto is both impressed and not at all surprised with any of this information, and they tell him so with a tiny, cheeky quirk of their lips. Souji-senpai simply chuckles and offers Naoto the smile that is just for them. He shows affection through his cooking, by giving a little piece of himself away with every bit of food he makes for others. It’s subtle, but hard to miss, and it always makes Naoto feel cozy and bright whenever it’s directed at them.

The Team piles up on several picnic blankets all thrown together and held in place by packages of food and sit together in one big lump, Souji-senpai’s cake sat squarely in the middle. They talk, laugh, watch the lowering sunlight as it goes to kiss at the edge of the water; it’s wonderful. Naoto beams below the brim of their hat, face colored with a flush of happiness as they let their found-family shower them in attention. It’s something they can’t remember ever really having, at least not for ages, and while it’s different and new it’s also absolutely perfect – as if there had been a shard missing from somewhere deep in Naoto’s chest that many hands have now helped to fill.

The sunlight fades to a dusty gold at the line of the river, reflecting back the elongating shadows of early evening’s arrival. It isn’t yet dusk, the sky not dark enough to be considered so, but it’s getting close. In the past, Naoto has never cared much for twilight. The diffused amber light always used to make them slightly anxious, reminded them that yet another day had come to a close and left them feeling stagnant and stuck. Now, though, with their favorite people surrounding them, they think maybe the glow along the horizon might not be such a bad thing after all.

It’s getting closer to the darker side of day’s end, a couple of hours into the celebration when the cake has been devoured and the presents all opened, that Naoto finds themself sitting closer to the bank and watching the miniature waves that curl along the river’s surface. The motions are gentle, like the soft caress of a hand, and a sense of calm has washed over them as they stare at the last rays of sunlight glittering across the top of the water. Their friends have taken to gathering up the leftovers, putting away the boxes, packing up anything that might get lost in the dark when the sun finally goes all the way down. Naoto had tried to help, of course, seeing as how everyone had gone to the trouble of _throwing_ them a party, the least they could do is help clean up, but they’d quickly been shooed away.

So they sit. And watch the river. And tuck their knees up to their chest with their chin resting comfortably atop them. They listen to the sounds of their friends up behind them as the group moves about but keep their ears unfocused to anything but the sound of the Samegawa. It’s because of this distraction, this peaceful suspension as the light grows low, that Naoto nearly misses the rustling of the grass as Souji-senpai comes to sit beside them.

“How did you like it?” he asks softy.

Naoto turns their head to look at him; he’s facing the water just like they were, with his face framed in soft edges and tranquil contentment. It’s a good look on him.

They hum. “It was lovely, thank you.” Naoto’s lips curve in a slow smile, which Souji-senpai returns even before he moves to face them. Their smile widens. “When Rise-chan asked me what I wanted to do for today, I would never have thought of this, even if I’d had an answer at the time.” They chuckle and shift their gaze back towards the horizon, the dance of the gold on the river shining just at the edge of their line of sight. “I’ve never… done this,” they confess, tucking their chin lower against their knees. “I’ve never really had any friends to do this _with._ So… thank you.”

Souji-senpai huffs softly – a happy sound that nearly becomes an answering hum of his own. “I wish we’d met sooner then.” He shifts his legs to stretch them out in front of him and leans back on his hands against the grass.

They both stay quiet for a time, Naoto watching the fading light and Souji-senpai watching _them_ with patient eyes. Eventually he turns fully back toward the river and says, in a whisper nearly swallowed by the breeze, “For what it’s worth, I think we would have been pretty good friends as kids…”

Naoto feels their breath stutter and catch in their throat, and their vision blurs hot with sentimental tears. They cannot speak past the swell of unnamable emotion in their chest, warm and fluffy and desperate in its yearning for a different life with a different childhood. _I want that,_ they think, but the words refuse to come; _I wish we’d had that…_

They cannot answer, so they simply nod.

 

 

 

That night, after everyone has gone home and Naoto sits alone in their bedroom with Grandfather fast asleep down the hall, they go to their bookcase and pull an old, well-worn volume with a cracking canvas spine from its place on the highest shelf. There is a moment of mental debate, where Naoto carefully flips open the dusty cover and reads the words they’d loved so much as a child, before they close it again one final time. It’s served them well, given them joy and comfort when they’d needed it; now, it can go to someone else, someone that might have loved it as much as they did in years long passed.

They slip the book into a pretty paper gift bag they’d purchased the day before and gently tuck a handful of silvery tissue paper in around the ageing book. There is a small part of them that is sad to see it go, but it is eclipsed by the softer, fuller feeling still lingering in Naoto’s chest from Souji-senpai’s words at the riverbank. They know, (or they would like to think) that their childhood self would understand, and would whole-heartedly approve.

Naoto sets the gift bag on the edge of their desk where it won’t be forgotten and reaches for their phone to cancel the order they’d placed online the other day. They don’t need it anymore – not when something much more meaningful now rests inside the bag meant for their closest friend.

They fall asleep a short while later, slipping into peaceful dreams of alternate timelines where seven familiar figures join them on the grass of their favorite childhood playground, and a quiet boy with storm-cloud eyes asks them if they want to play.

 

\---

 

Naoto meets with Kanji-kun on Sunday for one last round of baking practice. The two of them politely decline Tatsumi-san’s offer to observe their efforts – if ever they were going to try and do this on their own, now would be the time. Tatsumi-san gives them a knowing, proud smile and tells them to call for her should they need anything, then slips away into the depths of the house to put the finishing touches on Rise-chan’s order.

So they take their time, moving carefully and reading the directions twice over before completing each step. Tonight it crucial; it’s the first time they’ve made a full-scale cake, rather then the individual-sized ones they’d been producing all week in order to save space and ingredients, and thus it is the first time they’ve used a recipe that requires more from them. If they fail tonight, then they will need to double their efforts tomorrow – Monday is all they will have left after this.

Early into the learning process, several days back, they had agreed that anything too complicated or overly ambitious was going to be out of their depth. They keep it simple, with minimal decoration (that’s what the banner and the rest of the party decorations are for) and an easy, traditional flavor. The only thing extra that they plan to add is a strategically placed spattering of colorful sugar flowers that had been purchased from a small bakery in town. The package sits off to the side, waiting.

When the cake is pulled from the oven and has sat long enough to cool, when the icing is on and as smooth as they can get it, they call Tatsumi-san into the kitchen to appraise the results. She smiles at them as she tries it, wide and kind, and in a soft voice that Naoto thinks their own mother might have used oh so long ago, Tatsumi-san tells them both that it’s perfect.

 

\---

 

Monday comes and Monday goes. Souji-senpai goes to work at his job at the daycare center, leaving everyone free to stop by the Dojima residence to drop off anything they feel comfortable leaving hidden in a downstairs closet that doesn’t get much use in the summer. Presents are stored, anything non-perishable is tucked away out of sight, decorations and paper supplies are left until tomorrow. Nanako-chan and Teddie map out where they want everything to go and show off the banner they’d finally had the chance to finish making with Dojima-san’s help. Afterwards, Naoto follows Kanji-kun home to take one final stab at baking.

The blue and violet sugar flowers look beautiful against the icing’s stark, vibrant white.

           

\---

 

Tuesday.

Naoto barely sleeps the night before, too busy going over and over and _over_ everything in their mind long into the early hours of the morning. As a result, they find it nearly impossible to concentrate during class. They fidget with their pencil, bounce their leg unconsciously beneath their desk. It isn’t noticeable enough to draw any attention, but it’s enough to keep them distracted in and of itself. By the time lunch rolls around, they’ve barely managed to take any notes at all.

After school is even worse. Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai meet up with Naoto in the stairwell, where Yukiko-senpai whispers that they’re on their way to stop by the inn and pick up the finished dinner before heading over to the Dojima house to help set up. Chie-senpai adds that Souji-senpai is still upstairs in the classroom, being stalled by his boyfriend as Yosuke-senpai does his best to keep their leader’s attention on him. (Not that Yosuke-senpai has to try very hard in that respect.)

Naoto nods, perhaps a bit more animatedly than necessary, and hurriedly waves them on ahead. When Naoto gets to the ground floor and sees no sign of anyone else, they hang back near the bulletin board by the front entrance and pretend to peruse the various papers pinned to it while keeping an eye out for the rest of their friends.

Kanji-kun finds them next, and he confirms that neither of their remaining senpai have passed him on the stairs. He waits with them, also trying to calm a thundering heart rate without making it obvious, until Rise-chan makes her way down. She and Kanji-kun leave together in the direction of the textile shop – Rise-chan to pick up her order, and Kanji-kun to grab the cake before they, too, join the others at Dojima-san’s. Naoto watches them go.

Their phone buzzes in their pocket a moment or so later, a new message in the group chat winking up at them.

 

**Yosuke-senpai:** takin prtnr back 2 my place 2 hang out. som1 txt me when ur ready

 

Naoto snorts quietly to themself at that. _Not very subtle,_ they think, because really – if Souji-senpai doesn’t show up later with hickies dotting his neck then Naoto will be thoroughly surprised. (Still, better than taking Souji-senpai on a date and running the risk of taking too long or leaving their leader too burnt out to enjoy his own party.)

Sending off a quick reply, Naoto takes this as their cue to leave. They change out of their indoor shoes and quickly slip out the door before the pair of boys can make it down and spot them loitering.

 

 

Naoto arrives at the Dojima house before most of the rest of them – save for Teddie, who had headed out early to walk Nanako-chan home from school. The two of them are halfway through dragging everything out of the closet when Naoto gets there, the low table in the living room already piled high with all the gifts that had been left there the night before. Naoto spares a second to pull the strange blue greeting card – which now bears the signature of every member of the IT, plus Nanako-chan and her father – from the gift bag where Naoto had tucked it away for safe keeping. They set it on the table near the front of the pile, where the deep, shimmering blue of the envelope can be seen amongst the other colorful wrappings. That done, Naoto lets themself be pulled in the direction of the closet to help dig everything else out.

It’s only a short time later that Kanji-kun and Rise-chan arrive. Nanako-chan giggles over how pretty the cake is as she helps Kanji-kun put it away in the refrigerator. Rise-chan, meanwhile, sets down the large paper box she’d carried in and begins to rifle through the supplies from the closet for the roll of wrapping paper she’d stored just for this purpose. Naoto goes and sits with her when Rise-chan calls them over and together they manage to wrangle the box into its shiny pastel wrappings in record time. Nanako-chan stands off to the side and watches them excitedly for a moment before turning her attention back towards where Kanji-kun is helping Teddie to hang the banner. She calls out instructions until both sides are perfectly even.

The five of them are tackling the rest of the decorations when Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai finally knock on the door. Rise-chan helps to clear away space on the kitchen table as their senpai start unpacking what they can from the three giant bags of food containers brought from the Amagi Inn. Anything that won’t need to be heated up in any way goes directly on the table; everything else is set off to the side of the kitchen for the time being. Eventually Dojima-san joins them – much to the elation of Nanako-chan, whom Naoto is certain still has minor trust issues when it comes to her father and his work schedule. He greets them all, hugging his exuberant daughter and ruffling her hair, and then promptly gets out of the way with a promise to help should they need him.

The preparations are nearly complete when the members of the group all swap places. Kanji-kun and Naoto take over in the kitchen to get the last of the food warmed up with Nanako-chan’s assistance. Rise-can and the rest of the girls rearrange the presents over by the sliding glass door to make more room to sit at the low table, since Rise-chan’s gift is a bit too large and hard to display in the small space. They carefully lay the card on top of the pile.

Finally, _finally,_ with the sun drifting lower into late afternoon and striping the living room in soft, dusty light through the curtains, Naoto sends Yosuke-senpai a text to let him know they’re ready. He texts them back to confirm that he and Souji-senpai are on their way.

“Alright,” Naoto breathes into the room full of waiting faces. They feel their heart fluttering inside their ribcage like a butterfly’s wings, their lungs suddenly pulling in twice as much air and yet still not filling nearly enough to quell Naoto’s shaking hands. “We have fifteen minutes.”

_Oh my god,_ they think with only a touch of adrenaline-spiked mania. _We’re doing this. We pulled this off._ And as they watch their friends, their teammates, the people that mean the world to Souji-senpai scurrying about, looking for places to linger to wait for him to arrive, Naoto can only tell themself that they’ve done all they can. The whispering voice of doubt tries to titter and hiss in the back of their mind that their efforts aren’t good enough, that they haven’t _done_ enough; Naoto squares their shoulders and tells the voice to kindly shut the hell up.

_Deep breaths._

“Everybody ready?”

A quiet chorus of affirmation is the response.

Calm washes over them out of nowhere like a warm summer breeze – Yamato Takeru humming gently inside their soul. They nod. “Good.”

Naoto switches off the lights and steps back away from the door to stand under the banner with their friends. Not even two minutes later there is the sound of keys being inserted into the lock, and a familiar pair of voices reaches them from just outside the door.

 

\---

 

_"I… guess no one’s home yet…”_

_“Guess not.”_

There is a pause as the lock turns and the grating click of metal echoes in the silent space of the living room. The handle turns.

_“Hey,”_ Yosuke-senpai’s voice comes again, muffled by the wood of the door that still hasn’t opened. _“You okay?”_

There is another, shorter pause. Then, softly, _“Yeah, I just… The dark still messes with me a little bit.”_

Naoto tenses, holding their breath behind pursed lips as they listen to their leader, their friend expose a crack in his shield. They don’t have time to wonder if the admission will play well with what’s about to transpire before the door swings resolutely open and the wary sound that Souji-senpai makes behind his teeth rings audibly into the dark.

_Here we go._

Yosuke-senpai steps in first, his voice preceding him as he enters and goes to stand by the light switch on the wall. “Well then, guess we’d better turn the lights on, huh?”

There is another pause where Souji-senpai must make some kind of inaudible reply, followed by a second pair of footsteps when he finally moves inside.

“Alright!” Yosuke-senpai says with just a _bit_ too much cheer, and Naoto knows he’s speaking more to the group hidden in the shadows than to his boyfriend. “Bright light in 3… 2… 1…”

_‘Click.’_

“SURPRISE!”

The lights flash on, chasing the darkness from the corners and revealing the small crowd of people concealed within. Eight voice rise as one in joyous, excited greeting.

For a moment, there is fear.

Souji-senpai recoils as if struck, blinking in bright-eyed panic at the sudden light. He flinches backwards, startled at the sharp movements and the unexpected sounds, and drops lower into something like a battle stance – instinctive, like he’s used to years of being afraid of entering a house. His shoulders tense as he reaches habitually for a sword that simply isn’t there.

But then Yosuke-senpai is at his side, a hand is on his back, and slowly, like a frightened, feral cat, Souji-senpai straightens up and blinks again to take in the sight of friends instead of monsters.

(Naoto bites their lip so hard they feel the skin give way. They know all too well that the worst of the phantoms plaguing Souji-senpai’s mind are not the ones he’s had to face inside the television.)

“It’s okay, Partner,” Yosuke-senpai murmurs, just barely audible in the space of deafening silence.

And just like that, the fear begins to drain.

The team surges forward, Teddie and Nanako-chan at the front, and Naoto stands grinning as a very confused-looking Souji-senpai is dragged further into the room. Beside them, hanging back away from the gaggle of teens and children, Dojima-san chuckles softly.

“You did good, Shirogane,” he says.

Naoto glances over to see the older detective watching his nephew with a fond expression.

“I think he needed this.”

Naoto grins just a little bit wider.

Souji-senpai stares around the room as if lost, taking in the sight of the silver and blue paper streamers draped along the walls with quiet, childlike awe. His expression is guarded still, tinted around the edges with disorientation, like everything around him is foreign and strange. Ever since Naoto has known him, there has been an age to Souji-senpai’s eyes, a kind of maturity that no teenager should ever have to wear. It took them a long time to realize that it wasn’t simply the weight of the investigations that had put that age there. Now, however, as Souji-senpai catches sight of the bright blue banner in the corner of the ceiling, with _Happy Name Day, Souji_ emblazed across it in shining silver characters, the age seems to melt away into nothingness, slipping from his shoulders and the lines between his brows. His lips part in wonderment, unconsciously forming the shape of the words as he reads them, and Naoto thinks they catch a momentary glimpse of the little boy their friend was never allowed to be.

“Wh…what’s…?” he whispers in a small voice, likely unaware he’s even spoken aloud.

Naoto steps closer, sliding up behind him and standing just off to the side where his peripherals will alert him to Naoto’s presence. “The first of May.”

Souji-senpai turns his head slowly to look at them, brow crinkling in silent question.

“The first of May,” Naoto repeats. They raise their voice just so, just enough to be heard over the raucous sounds of their friends in the background as the rest of the group begins to spreads out to begin celebrating in earnest. Their lips curl upwards in a smile. “The day you chose your name.”

Souji-senpai’s chest deflates likes he’s just lost his breath, grey eyes flickering from Naoto to the banner to the gifts by the curtains and then back again. He breathes, and the sound is shaky, tinged with timidity. “I don’t understand.”

Dojima-san picks that moment to wander over as well. He claps a hand down on his nephew’s shoulder – which causes Souji-senpai to twitch instinctively before relaxing into the fatherly contact. “What’s not to understand?” he teases, though his tone is that loving kind of serious that leaves no room for argument. “We’re celebrating that day _you_ came into existence.”

The emphasis in not lost on Souji-senpai, it seems, because his face scrunches slightly as if he’s fighting back an emotion he doesn’t think he’s allowed to have.

Dojima-san shakes his head. His voice is low and resolute as he says, “To hell with your birth certificate, Souji.”

Souji-senpai has to look down and away for a moment, and if there is a faint gleam of moisture in the corners of his eyes, then neither Naoto nor Dojima-san say a single thing about it.

Before the final wall of Souji-senpai’s dam can crack and fall away, Nanako-chan runs up with Teddie fast on her heels and throws her arms around her brother’s waist. Teddie echoes the movement and soon Souji-senpai is trapped in a double embrace from both the IT’s resident Little Siblings. Dojima-san steps away with a laugh.

“Okay!” Rise-chan calls a heartbeat later. “Dinner first, before it gets cold!”

And _finally,_ for the first time since stepping into the house, Souji-senpai’s face tentatively smoothes out into something like unfiltered joy.

 

 

After dinner comes cake, which Souji-senpai just sort of stares at for a few seconds, as though his mind is lagging as it tries to process. He watches Yukiko-senpai with an owlish expression as she slices the cake into equal pieces and slides a piece with the largest, prettiest bundle of sugar flowers onto a plate. He seems to almost startle, shoulders hunching adorably, when she holds it out for him to take.

Naoto nearly snorts into their tea. Souji-senpai looks very much like an awkward child, unsure of what he’s allowed to do and what is proper behavior; Naoto is reminded of how he couldn’t sit still at Kanji-kun’s party, always up and moving and playing the role of co-host with ease. They would never say it to his face, but it’s sort of nice to see Souji-senpai safely out of his element.

The cake itself is a success, earning the seal of approval from both Nanako-chan _and_ Teddie in the form of delighted cheers. Souji-senpai smiles at them, apparently content to watch, and it takes Kanji-kun reaching over Nanako-chan’s head and lightly poking him in the side before he remembers that there is a piece in front of him, too.

“You made this?” he asks quietly, no louder than an awed murmur.

Kanji-kun rubs at the back of his head and turns away to hide the smile of pride and the faint hue of crimson that warms his features. “W-well, you made _mine,_ so I just…” He clears his throat and jerks a thumb over to where Naoto is sitting on Kanji-kun’s right. “Naoto and I both made it, and they’re the one that found the flowers, all I did was—“

“We made it together, yes,” Naoto finishes. They smile over at Kanji-kun in reassurance, then turn to Souji-senpai to smile a little wider. “You made mine as well, it was only right.”

“Yeah,” Kanji-kun adds with a fervent nod. His face is practically radiating heat with how red it is, but he presses on, gaze glued to the tabletop. “You keep spoilin’ all of us, so we figured it was our turn to spoil _you_ for a change.”

Souji-senpai’s eyes go impossibly wider, and he ducks his head to hide the way his cheeks have gone bright and warm with a blush of his own. He stuffs a bite of cake into his mouth to avoid responding, and his lips curl faintly upward in a happy smile around the tines of his plastic fork.

 

 

Once everyone is finished eating and all the washable dishes have been set neatly aside, Nanako-chan pulls a thick, flat package wrapped in sunny yellow paper from the pile of gifts along the wall. She hurries back over to her spot at Souji-senpai’s side at the living room table (where Naoto had adamantly kept him seated while the rest were cleaning up) and plunks down next to him on the floor. She holds the box out to him with an expression that could rival the first true day of summer.

“Open this one first, Oniichan!”

Souji-senpai smiles at his little sister – the one just for her, full of softness and pride – as she pushes the box into his hands.

Rise-chan squeals in delight. “Yes!” Rushing over from the kitchen, she scoops up as many of the presents as she can in her arms and excitedly brings them over to the table for easy reach. Yosuke-senpai grabs the ones she misses.

“You have to open mine second, Senpai,” she gushes as she comes back to her seat, face split wide in a beaming grin.

As small as the low table is, there isn’t much room for so many people crowding around it, let alone people _plus_ gifts, but they make it work somehow. Yosuke-senpai is pressed up against Souji-senpai’s left side, his proximity to his boyfriend acting as both subtle affection and also a bit of a grounding point. Nanako-chan, of course, is seated on Souji-senpai’s right, and the three of them together are practically squished into the space of one side of the table with most of the rest of the IT filling up whatever remaining room they can fit themselves into. Dojima-san wisely sits slightly apart from the group at one of the kitchen chairs, which frees up the couch for Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai to claim as their own. Yukiko-senpai pulls the stack of packages closer to the two of them, silently appointing herself in charge of handing them over once Souji-senpai is ready.

“Actually, wait.” Naoto cuts in before Souji-senpai has a chance to do more than fidget awkwardly and blink at Nanako-chan’s present like it’s something sacred. They lean back and stretch out their arm towards where the cobalt-colored envelope lies at Yukiko-senpai’s feet. Daintily, Yukiko-senpai bends forward and picks it up, handing it over to where Naoto can reach. They nod their thanks, then slide the card across the table to Souji-senpai, who looks no less bewildered than he did before.

He takes it with a questioning tilt of his head and carefully looks it over as if he’s not quite sure what to do with it. (There is a part of Naoto that wonders if he’s just wary, or if he’s genuinely confused as to why he’s just been handed a card. Either one is entirely plausible, and neither one is something Naoto would ever wish on their friend.)

Slowly, taking care not to rip or crease the envelope, Souji-senpai tugs the card free from its paper housing. His face twitches slightly, like he’s habitually suppressing a startled smile, but there is mild amusement in his eyes that Naoto can see from their seat two people away, as he takes in the blue-and-black emblem on the front of the card. He opens the cover; his entire body stills.

Naoto watches as Souji-senpai’s expression melts into something almost unreadable, something lost and unsure but speckled with the tiniest blooms of disbelieving hope. Once again they liken his countenance to that of a child afraid to break an illusion, confused and maybe a little sad and scared to believe that they are deserving of something nice. It wrenches at Naoto’s heart.

_(“Wrong name on the birthday card, you know?”)_

Not anymore.

Naoto may not be able to see the inside of the card from where they sit, but they know exactly what’s written on every square inch of available space within.

_We love you, Souji-senpai!_ in looping, glittery pink.

_You’re the bear-y best, Souji-sensei!_ in wobbly blue.

_I’m glad we’re friends, Souji-kun,_ in elegant crimson.

_To Souji-kun – best training buddy EVER_, in vibrant neon green.

_Welcome to the family, Souji,_ in professional, ballpoint black.

_Souji-niichan, Souji-senpai, My Souji –_ written in cheery purple and pastel yellow and metallic sunset-orange, with Naoto’s own message of _Thank you for existing, Souji-kun_ in long strokes of deep, rich indigo down in the corner below “Margaret’s” brilliant gold.

_Best Friend, Partner, Leader, Brother_ ; each and every signature preceded by words of endearment, words of praise, words of thanks, and every single one containing a deliberate emphasis on the only name that matters.

Souji-senpai’s gaze sweeps across each iteration of his name as if he’s never seen it written before. Shakily, he brings the fingers of one hand up to ghost along the paper, trailing over the words as he reads them one after another. Little by little, the blankness of his expression gives way to bewildered realization. He lets out a short, sharp exhale as he reaches the bottom of the card – a huff of baffled laughter escaping from his chest. His eyes are wet when he finally looks back up at the people around him.

“I…”

He trails off, swallowing uncertainly and blinking twice in rapid succession to keep the rising flood of _feeling_ at bay.

“…Thank you,” he whispers, and in those two words is the entire weight of everything Souji-senpai cannot find the proper words to say.

Nanako-chan, embodiment of all things pure and good that she is, leans against her brother’s side and wraps her tiny arms around his waist. She mumbles something into his shirtsleeve that Naoto cannot hear, but whatever it is causes Souji-senpai to drape his arm over her shoulders and pull her in for a hug. He ducks his head and buries his face against her hair, but just before he does there is a faint gleam of teeth – an actual, albeit watery, _grin._

The moment of stillness dissipates. Teddie, not to be left out of hugging his “sensei”, launches himself across Yosuke-senpai’s lap with a wordless, weepy cry to join in on the embrace from Souji-senpai’s left.

Yosuke-senpai squawks, Nanako-chan giggles, and in an abrupt burst of noise and movement there is suddenly an odd dogpile of hugging limbs where Souji-senpai used to be as Rise-chan and Chie-senpai loudly throw themselves into the mix, followed close behind by Kanji-kun. Yukiko-senpai cackles with glee from her place on the couch. After a moment she must decide _“why not?”_ because she hops up like a spring, still laughing, to add one more body to the fray. Eventually, Souji-senpai snakes out an arm and drags Yosuke-senpai over against him as well.

Naoto watches their friends and teammates pile on top of their leader with an amber-colored glow behind their ribs. It starts like a drop of liquid sunlight and slowly spreads throughout their veins until their entire body feels warm. This is exactly what they’d wanted, what they’d all set out to do from the start, and if there was ever a moment in their life where Naoto has felt prouder of their Pack of Imbeciles they cannot call it to mind.

They watch for just a few moments longer before sliding over to join as best they can, ignoring the sound of Dojima-san taking at least a dozen pictures on his phone.

The group hug ends a short time later, once Nanako-chan grows impatient enough to poke her brother in the side. “Oniichan!” she calls from somewhere beneath the mountain of people. “You still have to open your presents!”

Souji-senpai chuckles, loud enough to be audible even past the muffling by Rise-chan’s arms. “Okay, okay,” he relents, and rolls his shoulders back to straighten his spine. Like the well-oiled unit the IT has become, they all fall gently away from their leader’s form.

It’s like a long-dead battery has finally been recharged. The Souji-senpai that emerges from the cluster of people is lighter, surer, with a telltale crinkle at the corners of his lightning-bright eyes. The group must feel it, too, because there is an aura of something clicking into place and suddenly everyone seems just that much more alive.

Nanako-chan digs the yellow-wrapped package from before out from under the table. “This one first,” she says resolutely as she places it in front of her brother. Souji-senpai smiles.

 

 

One by one the gifts are carefully opened.

There is a handmade scrapbook from Nanako-chan and Teddie, with a glossy azure cover and cat sticker decorations. It’s full of empty grey photo pages – ready and waiting and perfect for someone to paste in a lifetime’s worth of future memories. The best part, though, the part that makes Souji-senpai positively _beam_ , are the pictures already glued onto first few page of the book.

There is a picture of Teddie and Nanako-chan working on the banner together, the table in front of them covered in crafting supplies and an ocean of deep blue paper.

There is another of Souji-senpai and Nanako-chan in the kitchen, Nanako-chan standing on a chair to look over her brother’s shoulder as he teaches her how to make Valentine’s chocolate.

Four pages in all are filled to the brim with candid snapshots; some from the IT members’ phones, some taken with an actual camera, but all of them featuring someone that Souji-senpai holds dear.

The very last one in the book before the blank pages begin is the one that had been taken on the first day of school, when everyone had gathered after classes had ended to commemorate the start of a new term. The Investigation Team stands grouped in front of Tatsuhime shine with Souji-senpai squished happily between them all at the center, Yosuke-senpai at his side and pointing to the third year bars clipped to Souji-senpai’s collar.

(Naoto thinks is might very well be Souji-senpai’s favorite of the bunch, as it’s a personal reminder that he never has to leave.)

Next up is Dojima-san, who pulls familial rank over Rise-chan to hand his nephew a plain white gift box with a simple silver ribbon. Inside is a small camera. “Nothing flashy,” he explains, “just something to help fill up that new scrapbook of yours.” He ruffles Souji-senpai’s hair in a very paternal gesture of affection, and the grin from earlier flashes briefly across Souji-senpai’s face once more.

Dojima-san takes his leave after that, pausing on his way out of the room to give his daughter a quick hug and making her promise not too stay up too late. He gives his nephew one final pat on the shoulder and then heads off deeper into the house.

After that comes Rise-chan’s gift – which Souji-senpai nearly drops back into the box in shock when he opens it. Inside is a stunning, midnight blue yukata with a faint pattern of thin vertical striping in a barely-lighter shade that only shows when the light hits it just right. It’s of high quality, clearly handmade and absolutely _gorgeous;_ a testament to Tatsumi-san’s extraordinary skill.

Souji-senpai nearly chokes. “Rise,” he says, voice cracking and eyes wide. “Thank you, but I can’t—“

“Senpai,” Rise-chan calmly interrupts. She places her elbows on the tabletop and leans forward, lacing her fingers together in a very deliberate motion. She smiles at him, and when she parts her lips to speak her voice is downright _dangerous_ in its sweet, adamantine calm. “You know I adore you, but if the next words out of your mouth are that you can’t accept my present then I’m afraid I’m going to have to stop you right there.”

Not even giving him a chance to respond, Rise-chan leans further over the table until she’s practically in his face. “One,” she starts, holding up a finger, “I know you don’t have one you feel comfortable in, you told me so, yourself. Two…” She holds up a second finger. “This one is super masculine and it’s going to look _so flattering_ on you.” Another. “Three, the summer festival is coming up in a couple of months and you promised Nanako-chan you’d go with her. Isn’t that right?” She turns towards the little girl in question, who answers with a gasp and an excited tug on Souji-senpai’s sleeve.

“We can dress up together, Oniichan!” Nanako-chan whispers, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

Rise-chan shoots her backup a wide grin before switching that razor-sharp focus back to the boy across from her. She holds up another finger. “And four, it was a custom order so you can’t take it back anyway.” Her smile stretches to show a hint of teeth. “Understand?”

Souji-senpai closes his mouth with an audible ‘ _click.’_

“Good,” Rise-chan chirps, straightening up from her subtly threatening posture. Her expression softens. “You need to let people give you nice things, Senpai.”

There is a moment of awed silence where everyone just… stares at her, collectively unable to process how effectively and completely she had shut their leader down.

(Naoto represses the urge to applaud.)

But then Rise-chan is slipping back into her usually bubbly self and holding out her hand to Yukiko-senpai for another gift to pass off, leaving the rest of the partygoers somewhat questioning their reality.

The next present to be opened is from Chie-senpai. The box is wide and rectangular, wrapped in glossy green paper, and as Souji-senpai peels the wrapping away to reveal a plastic model set, Chie-senpai awkwardly rubs at the back of her hair. “W-well, it’s not as fancy as Rise-chan’s, but I know you like making those and I thought, hey, his shelf could use a few more decorations, right?” She shrugs. “The guy at the shop said it was vintage, too, so… ya know…”

Souji-senpai chuckles and looks up from reading over the box to fix Chie-senpai with a fond expression. “I think I’ve actually seen this show before,” he says in a voice laced with quiet mirth. “Thank you.”

Chie-senpai turns away to hide her answering grin. “Okay, enough of that, Yukiko’s is next!” She grabs at a pale pink box with tiny scarlet speckles patterned across it, and hurriedly hands it off to Rise-chan to slide across the table.

Yukiko-senpai’s present is a (very nice) traditional calligraphy set, complete with several different brushes a small stack of practice paper. “I wasn’t sure if you had any prior interest in this,” she explains, “but you seem to like quieter activities and I thought you might find it relaxing if nothing else.”

The only two presents left in the pile are Kanji-kun’s and Naoto’s; Yosuke-senpai had grabbed his own small, brightly-colored package when he and Rise-chan had brought everything over from the wall and has been sitting there with it tucked safely away on his lap ever since the group hug. While Souji-senpai is thanking Yukiko-senpai, Naoto, casually as can be, reaches back and snags the two remaining packages from down by Chie-senpai’s feet before anyone else can. They quietly set Kanji-kun’s gunmetal grey gift box on the table and slip their own bag into their lap to ensure they don’t go _quite_ yet. They pretend not to see Rise-chan’s knowing smirk from over on their right.

Like with Rise-chan’s gift before, Souji-senpai nearly balks as he lifts the paper top from the box to reveal the star-speckled swath of fabric within. Naoto finds themself leaning forward to get a better look at it, since they’ve seen most of the work in progress but haven’t yet seen the finished product. It’s beautiful.

Random spatterings of white and silver rest against a rich, phthalo blue background like a sea of unnamable constellations in a cloudless twilight sky. The material itself sturdy, looking almost quilted from where the weighted innermost layer has been stitched securely in place. Souji-senpai runs his hands across the top of the blanket and follows the trailing lines that his fingers leave in the short, soft microfiber with his eyes.

Souji-senpai looks back up at Kanji-kun with a quiet smile and the bridge of Kanji-kun’s nose flushes pink. He ducks his head to hide it. “U-uh,” he stammers, weak in the face of his senpai’s expression. “Pick… pick it up.”

Their leader does so. His eyes go a little wide with, frankly adorable, curiosity. “It’s… heavy?” he asks, head tilted to the side.

Kanji-kun nods. “Yeah, it’s weighted. S’possed to like, help with stress or anxiety or somethin’…” He trails off, still recovering from the look Souji-senpai is giving him. Naoto can tell he’s flustered; it isn’t the first time he’s forgotten how to speak around their friend, and with as much thought as Kanji-kun had put into making that blanket _perfect,_ there is no other reason for him to be downplaying his own work as if he hadn’t known exactly what he was doing from the start. Naoto jostles him lightly under the table and merely offers a teasing arch of their brow when he glances at them indignantly.

A rustle of movement pulls both their attention back just in time to watch Souji-senpai finishing draping the blanket over his shoulders and pulling it close around himself like a happy child. He doesn’t grin again but his expression when he looks over and catches Kanji-kun’s eyes is positively _radiant._ “Thank you,” he says, glowing, golden warmth coloring the sound of his words. For a moment his eyes look less like rain clouds and more like shining silver.

Kanji-kun can do nothing but blush harder in response.

“Right, okay, so uh. My turn then, I guess.” Yosuke-senpai gives Kanji-kun an odd, sidelong glance as if he isn’t sure what to make of his kohai blushing over his boyfriend. (Then again, with as astute as he is, Naoto would be completely surprised if Yosuke-senpai wasn’t at least partially aware of just how many people tend to do exactly that. Souji-senpai, on the other hand, appears to be utterly oblivious.)

They watch Yosuke-senpai’s body language as he hands over the package he’s been guarding for the past half hour. He gnaws at his lip nervously, spine rigid and arms locked as Souji-senpai gently pulls back the wrapping paper and withdraws a dvd box set. It’s precious, they think, how even six months into their relationship, Yosuke-senpai still acts as if he’s asking out his crush for the very first time.

Souji-senpai lets out a short exhale, lips pulling into that devastating smile of undying affection that exists for Yosuke-senpai and Yosuke-senpai only. “This is…” He looks back up at his partner with an expression so bright it could illuminate even the blackest corners of Yomi itself. “You remembered.”

Yosuke-senpai laughs quietly. “Dude, of course I did.”

“Oi! Lovebirds!” Chie-senpai calls from the couch, sending Yukiko-senpai into a fit of sniggering. “Quit with the eyes and show us what it is already!”

With a huff of laughter, Souji-senpai turns the box forward and holds it up for everyone else to see. “My Neighbor Totoro,” he says, voice still laced with happiness. He taps his index finger under the colorful stripe at the top of the box, which reads _Special Collector’s Edition._

“Ah man! That movie’s adorable!” Kanji-kun exclaims, apparently having already gotten over his earlier blushing.

Souji-senpai nods. He brings the box back down to stare wistfully at the cover once more, expression going soft. “It was my favorite movie as a kid,” he admits, almost too quiet to be heard. “But I… haven’t actually seen it in forever.” He sighs, and the sound is just a little sad. “A neighbor friend and I use to watch it all the time; I gave him my copy when we moved away from each other.”

No one says anything for a moment or two – the only sound coming from the shifting of cloth as Yosuke-senpai scoots impossibly closer and slips his hand inside the edge of the blanket still around his boyfriend’s shoulders to link their fingers together.

It’s Teddie that breaks the stillness.

“Ooh, ooh! _We_ should all watch it together, Sensei!” he says, volume just barely on this side of a shout. Yosuke-senpai winces from the proximity of to his ear.

Nanako-chan lets out an excited gasp. _“Can_ we, Oniichan?” she asks hopefully, and tugs on her brother’s sleeve until he shifts to look down at her.

Souji-senpai huffs another laugh. He reaches up to oh-so-gently ruffle his little sister’s hair and says, “I’d love to, but we might have to wait for another night.” He hums. “It’s already getting kind of late.”

And he isn’t wrong. A quick glance at their watch tells Naoto that it’s creeping up on 8:30 – likely close to Nanako-chan’s bedtime.

Honestly, it’s probably getting pretty close to everyone else’s bedtimes, too. It _is_ still a school night, after all, and every one of them has been up and going since early that morning, heading straight out after classes had ended to get everything set up. It’s been a long day for all of them. (And Naoto sheepishly reminds themself that they’d barely slept the night before due to a predictably racing mind.)

With a collective groan of protest, the group slowly begins picking themselves up out of their seating arrangements and gathering together any last bit of party mess they can find. Souji-senpai has a brief stare-down with Rise-chan, who gives him a Look as he goes to make a grab for discarded wrapping paper, but eventually she gives in and _finally_ allows him to join in the cleaning.

It takes another ten or fifteen minutes to get everything squared away, with anything they’re unable to take back with them being set neatly off to the side until later. Little by little, the team says goodbye to Nanako-chan, goodnight to Souji-senpai, and starts to make their way out the door. Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai go first, then Rise-chan and Kanji-kun, then Teddie as he hurries to catch up to them, until the only ones left are Naoto and Yosuke-senpai, who is quite obviously spending the night.

Naoto steps away to call for a ride, since theirs is the furthest distance to go. As they do, Souji-senpai waves Yosuke-senpai on ahead, giving his boyfriend a chance to go get his things settled for their sleepover while Souji-senpai helps Nanako-chan get ready for a bath and bed. (Naoto feigns nonchalance as they wait for their call to go through and eyes Yosuke-senpai closely while he gathers up his stuff to take upstairs with him. They spot the way he dips his hand inside his school bag like he’s checking for something and then nods to himself as he apparently finds it, pulling his hand out and slipping what looks like a tiny, gift-wrapped box into his pocket. Naoto hides their triumphant smirk as he waves them goodnight and heads upstairs; they’d had a feeling the dvd wasn’t his _only_ present for Souji-senpai.)

The living room is quiet as they finish up their phone call, momentarily left alone. Carefully, unwilling to break the late-night stillness of the liminal space the house has become, Naoto pads back over to the low table and slips their hidden gift bag out from underneath.

They’re just about to turn around and go wait beside the door when Souji-senpai comes back into the room. He gives Naoto his tailored smile as he spots them. “Sorry about that,” he says, voice low in the sleepy silence. “Is your ride on the way?”

Naoto nods.

Souji-senpai’s smile stretches just slightly, pleased, and he steps over to join Naoto at the table. “I’ll wait with you until they get here.”

They sit beside one another now that there is space enough to do so without squishing more than one person to a single side of the table. For a moment neither of them speaks.

It’s Souji-senpai that eventually breaks the quiet. “Thank you. For everything.” He tilts his head and looks down at the tabletop to hide the happy crinkle at the corner of his eyes. “Nanako told me you were the one that planned this out.” Shyly, he glances back up. “I had fun.”

Naoto doesn’t really know how to respond. Objectively they _do_ , obviously, but it’s been a rare thing in their life for someone to thank them for something they’ve done. Not only that, but Naoto will be the first person to admit that they aren’t the best at handling social situations; they’re too blunt, they’ve been told, too tactless and frigid.

But even without that prior track record of not being _good_ at this kind of thing, even without being unaccustomed to being _in_ this kind of position, completely divorcing the current setting from all past experiences, this is _Souji-senpai._ Naoto’s face feels as though it’s on _fire._

They swallow to clear the dryness from their throat. “Y…you’re welcome.” Awkwardly they fidget with the bag in their hands, unable to handle the full weight of their friend’s gaze. The paper crinkles audibly under their grip. “Ah, uhm…” Face still blazing like a sunburn, Naoto shoves the bag forward, two-handed, and holds it out for Souji-senpai to take. “This is for you,” they mumble, hiding their flush behind the brim of their hat.

Careful hands, calloused from months of holding a sword, delicately take the bag from Naoto’s grasp. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he says, curiosity and mild confusion coloring his words.

Naoto chances a peek back up at him to see Souji-senpai still holding the bag, blinking over at them with a questioning expression.

They blink back at him. “Of course I did,” they say, quietly incredulous.

But Souji-senpai shakes his head and huffs in amusement. He looks pointedly around the room, gesturing with one hand towards the banner that still hangs over in the corner before turning back to them with a raised brow. “You… You threw me a party.” He chuckles, and the sound is one of perplexity – a wordless reminder that Souji-senpai still doesn’t understand just how much he’s worth to people.

Naoto frowns. “All of us did, I was just the one that asked you for a day.”

A pair of dust-colored brows arcs over a knowing silver gaze. “Which still makes it your idea.” He smiles just a little wider, and Naoto knows he’s won this round.

“Are you going to open it or not?” they ask in lieu of a proper response, giving their friend a flat look that they’ve been told can rival his own. Souji-senpai simply laughs once more in that breathy not-chuckle that he does when he doesn’t feel like making much sound.

As gently as he did with all the other packages that night, he slips a hand into the bag and slowly withdraws the tissue paper obscuring the inside from view, setting it aside as if it, too, were something to be respected. He slips his hand in a second time and gingerly slides the gift out into the light.

The book is hardbound, with a faded, wine red canvas cover and a charcoal grey spine that one upon a time was purest, deepest black. It creaks and crackles faintly where Souji-senpai holds it – old and tired but still in one piece despite the age and the creases where years of open pages have worn down the hinge. The words on the spine are nearly gone but the black-filled imprints on the cover still remain and Souji-senpai’s lips quirk as he brushes a thumb across the title.

“The Murders in the Rue Morgue, and Other Tales By Poe.” He lights up, shoulders rolling back and chin tilting, as he looks up at Naoto in delighted, innocent glee. It tugs at his expression, pulling the corners of his mouth, his eyes, etching excitement into his outline even as he sits perfectly still. Once more, Naoto is struck by just how _young_ their friend looks when he isn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He looks _right –_ like a child on their birthday, starry-eyed and completely unaware of the monsters in the dark. For the second time that night, Naoto thinks they can see the ghost of the little boy Souji-senpai _could_ have been, if Fate been just a little less cruel.

Sound reaches them, pulling them back into the room and away from the feeling of their heart squeezing in their chest. They blink over at their friend as he murmurs off the titles of the short stories, imprinted in that same aging black on the book’s back cover.

“Purloined Letter… Mystery of Marie Roget…” He looks back up at them, grey eyes practically shining like leftover rain puddles on a sunny summer day. “Inspector Dupin, right?”

Naoto’s own eyes widen. They sit up just a little straighter, lips parting in a quiet exhale of surprise. “Inspector C. Auguste Dupin, yes,” they reply with a nod. Nostalgia prickles, bittersweet, at the inside of their ribs; Naoto feels it sticking to their bones, their lungs, leaving them with the warm sweep of fond memories with the after-image of long-gone grief. They blink, and it flutters away.

Souji-senpai watches them carefully, tilting his head to the side as if he were a cat. Naoto takes a deep pull of air through their mouth, lets the feeling of their chest expanding ground them in the present.

_Are you alright?_ he asks without words.

They smile at him. _I’m alright,_ they answer back.

Naoto’s voice is strong and steady when they finally speak aloud. “My grandfather gave it to me when I was little,” they explain, gesturing towards the book with a dip of their chin. "He used to read it to me before bedtime. It’s what made me want to be a detective myself someday, even when I was still too young to really fully understand what my parents actually did for a living. I loved it very much.”

Their smile grows wistful. Taking another deep breath, Naoto lets it out slowly and lifts their gaze from where it’s drifted out of focus to the dusty photo albums in the back of their mind. They meet Souji-senpai’s curious, worried eyes and smile wider. “Which is why I want you to have it.”

Souji-senpai presses his lips between his teeth, brows pulling down into a shallow furrow. “Are you sure?” he asks, soft as a whisper. “This seems like it’s too important to give away.”

**_You’re_** _important,_ Naoto thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

Instead, they simply nod. “I still have the memories attached to it; I don’t need the physical copy to help me remember.”

Souji-senpai seems to understand. Slowly he pulls the book closer to himself with reverence, excitement still there, still gleaming behind his eyes, but softer, gentler. He slowly holds it against his chest as if it were a priceless treasure and fixes Naoto with a look of gratitude deeper than any person his age should be capable of.

A familiar tightness begins to bloom in Naoto’s chest. It’s warm, insistent, soft like fine-spun cotton even as it expands to fill their ribcage and press against their heart. It’s rightness, _home_ – so intense that it steals their breath away in the gentlest manner possible. They swallow around it, nearly choke.

“You were right,” they murmur, because that’s all that they can do in the face of that desperate _if only, if only, if only_ whispering different lifetimes into their skull.

Souji-senpai gives them a quizzical look, tilting his head again with a quiet, “hm?”

Naoto exhales sharply, a breathless facsimile of a watery laugh. “The other day, on the riverbank; you were right.” Their gaze drifts lower until Naoto’s eyes are resting on the aging cover of the book in their senpai’s careful hands. “I think we would have been wonderful childhood friends...”

Their words trail off into silence. There is more that they could say, whole volumes of things that remain unspoken, that rattle around in the cotton-filled gaps between their ribs and stick just at the back of their throat. But they don’t. They don’t need to.

And looking over at Souji-senpai’s answering smile, they know he’s heard them anyway.

“Thank you, Naoto,” he murmurs, an ocean of meaning hidden below the surface.

Naoto’s breath hitches at the sound of phantom waves. “You’re welcome, Souji.”

Souji-senpai _grins._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! So! 
> 
> April was a mess. My spouse had to go to the ER because of a frighteningly bad circulation incident. They're fine now, no blood blot or anything, thank gods, but we've had to go back to the doctor twice since for follow up stuff and blood work. He's been walking with a cane for a while now and it's been helping. 
> 
> Immediately afterwards, my mother went in for hip replacement surgery and I went to stay with her for about a week before, and then two weeks after to help out while she recovered. She and I are... repairing a heavily damaged relationship, so between all the physical stuff that took up a lot of time, there was also a shiiiiiit ton of mentally exhausting stuff, too, and I _did_ try and write, even if just for myself, but it just... it didn't happen. It _couldn't_ happen. I ended up starting to associate 'CitG' with a shitty emotional state and I had to put it on accidental hiatus before I lost my love for it. :( The town Mom lives in is also rural as hell, so there wasn't internet access of any kind for me to really be able to _tell_ you guys about the hiatus, either. I couldn't even work on replies because I was limited to my phone data for three weeks. 
> 
> The surgery went okay, she was doing great, and then the day I went home to take my spouse to one of their follow-up appointments, Mom fell off her porch and landed right on her hip. So I ended up going back for a couple of days to stay with her again. (She's fine now! She's totally okay, she just kind of jostled her new hip joint and had to be in a wheelchair for a few weeks, set her healing process back by about a month. But she's back out of the wheelchair as of the 24th and she can walk again with the help of a walker.) So yeah. That was a whole thing. 
> 
>  
> 
> **On a better note!** I got accepted as a writer of the [Fools In Love](https://personafoolsinlovezine.tumblr.com/) Persona fan zine! So I've been working on that alongside this fic and also tiny my editing job. (Pre-orders start in June, I think, so I'll keep you all posted if I'm allowed to! :D)   
> Now, I wanted to put up a new chapter of 'CitG' this month, but because I have more work to do on the zine entry, as well as editing, I don't think I'll have time to finish up what I have for chapter 6 before June. Also, SouYo Week starts right after I post this and I want to participate in that this year, so while I may not get more 'CitG' out until June, I'll still be posting stuff. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for everything, for your continued support and your understanding. I'm fucking _excited_ to get back to work so I can talk to you all again! <3 
> 
>  
> 
> Title is taken from 'Party Like It's Your Birthday' by Studio Killers.
> 
>  
> 
> Like my work? Wanna geek out with me? Come and hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/DaemonSparks) or [tumblr](http://chroniccombustion.tumblr.com/)~


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